#just added a read more for the length and cause not everyone's interested in the psychology side of things

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.1 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀° ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, flirting, drinking, nothing crazy happens in this chapter tbh, idiots, have fun (I’m so excited to see what everyone says, thank you to everyone for all the love on the teaser post!) ❥word-count: 9.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

Day 0

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the ambient buzz of the office as he appeared at your cubicle. You blinked up at him, his request causing a ripple of curiosity among your surrounding coworkers, though no one dared to show it openly.

You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. Was I in trouble? Did he hate my last research project? Your mind raced through the possibilities. Yoongi had praised your work just last week, but what if he’d changed his mind? The thought of him taking back his compliments made your stomach twist. With a sigh, you saved your work and rose to follow him. The walk to his office felt unnervingly like being summoned to the principal’s office in high school.

Though your colleagues barely glanced in your direction, the nerves still had your palms sweating. You tried to wipe them discreetly on your pants as you stepped inside his office.

Yoongi moved behind his desk with casual ease, sinking into his chair as though he hadn’t just rattled your nerves with his sudden appearance. You stood awkwardly for a moment until he waved you toward the chair in front of his desk.

“You can relax, Y/N. You’re not in trouble.” He said, his tone gentle but amused. It was clear he could feel the tension radiating off you.

“I know, I know. I’m just a worrywart. You know that.” You laughed softly, though it came out more anxious than you’d intended. “So… why did you want to see me?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk as he watched you. “I’ve have an assignment for you. Something better than your usual research work.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as he began rifling through the disorganized pile of files and papers littering his desk. You’d been at Composure for a while, mostly doing background research for other writers’ articles. But you’d been hoping for an opportunity to step out of the shadows, to prove yourself as more than just a behind-the-scenes contributor. Maybe this is it?

When Yoongi finally found what he was looking for, he pulled out an old magazine and dropped it in front of you with a soft thud. You glanced down at the cover, your eyes widening as you saw the issue was from 2003.

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.” Yoongi said, leaning back in his chair with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You picked up the magazine and began flipping through it, skimming the pages until you found the article. A sense of familiarity washed over you—this was one of those interesting pieces people still whispered about around the office. “I’m confused.”

“This piece was a massive hit when it came out.” He explained, lacing his fingers together as he leaned back. “Lana, one of the higher-ups, was the editor at the time this particular piece came out. She brought it up recently, said she thinks it’s time for something like this to make a comeback.”

“You want me to do this?” You asked, still reeling from the audacity of the concept. You skimmed through the details, noting the original author, Andy. She had gone to extreme lengths to sabotage a relationship for the sake of the article. You couldn’t help but cringe at some of the tactics she’d employed.

“Not exactly.” Yoongi replied with a small chuckle. “The feedback back then was that the whole experiment felt a bit too unrealistic. Readers loved it and it was a funny read, but many thought they don’t do things this intense. Lana’s idea was to take the same concept, but… stretch it out.”

“Stretch it out?” You echoed, still trying to wrap your head around the idea.

“Yeah. Ten days is too quick for something like this. We want to make it feel more genuine. Instead of a mad dash to drive the guy away, we want to see what happens over a longer period. A month, maybe two. Let the tension build naturally.”

You leaned back in your chair, letting the idea swirl around in your head. It was ambitious, maybe even a bit reckless, but there was no denying it would be a challenge.. “So… you want me to date someone and—what? Subtly sabotage it over time?”

“Exactly. Actually date but do all the classic early relationship mistakes.” Yoongi explained, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the concept. “It’s an experiment in human behavior, relationships, and how much people are willing to overlook.”

“So like talking about something personal way too fast, or inviting yourself into their life way too quickly and then write about it?” You prattled on a bit, it was picking at the ideas in your brain in the right way.

Yoongi smiled, clearly pleased with your interest. “I brought this to you because you have more than proven yourself here. You’ve been doing excellent research, and I want to see how you handle something of this scale. Especially because this would be a feature piece.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, but there was still a question gnawing at you. “I’m glad you are trusting me with something like this, especially with such a high-profile piece. But… I have to ask, sir—why do you think I’m the right person for this?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Because I want to challenge you. I like your research and I like how you write, you understand the people who read our columns on a deeper level. I think you have more in you. I want to see if you can handle something outside of your comfort zone.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words wasn’t lost on you. “And after something like this, I’d be more than happy to move you on to bigger and better pieces.”

The subtle hint of a promotion sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Really?”

“Really.” Yoongi confirmed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It was all you could do to keep the excitement from bubbling over. An actual writing assignment, something that could elevate your standing in the magazine, was exactly what you had been waiting for.

“I don’t even know what to say other than thank you.” 

You fidget with the magazine in your hands, resisting the urge to curl the edges. Your mind raced, trying to think of what a realistic timeline for the piece could look like—something ambitious, but doable.

“How about… How to Lose a Guy in Thirty Days ? A longer timeline, more idealistic. A month in is usually when new relationships start to fall apart. It’s after the initial getting-to-know-someone phase.” You suggest, throwing the idea out there, hoping Yoongi would take the bait.

“Thirty days, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod, your confidence building as you think about the possibilities.

“Good.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “Let’s start on Monday, after we get through this print run. That gives you a few days to find the poor guy.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Min.” You stand up, your heart racing as you try to play it cool. But as soon as you exit his office, you can barely contain your excitement.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” You mutter under your breath as you rush to your desk. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you start jotting down notes, pulling out sticky notes and scribbling ideas, trying to organize your thoughts.

Ronnie, sitting in the neighboring cubicle, leans back to peer around the divider, noticing your frenzied state. She rolls her chair into your space, sliding up next to you with a curious look.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she watches you type furiously. A laugh escapes her when she sees the pen stuck in your mouth and the growing pile of sticky notes attached to the old magazine.

“I gob a columb.” You mumble through the pen, barely pausing your typing.

Ronnie plucks the pen from your mouth. “Try that again.”

“I’m writing my first column.” You repeat, finally turning to face her, your excitement breaking through.

“No way!” Ronnie stands, her voice a little too loud, drawing a few glances from nearby desks. She sits back down and grabs your shoulders. “That’s so awesome! Your first column! What’s it going to be about?”

You hand her the magazine, pointing to the title. “This.”

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days?” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, flipping through the article. “You’re seriously going to do this?”

“Well, not exactly the same.” You say with a grin, watching as she reads through the outlandish tactics in the original piece. “Just similar.”

Ronnie’s eyes widen as she reaches some of the more extreme parts of the article. “Okay, this is crazy, all the things this girl did to this guy. Oh my god.” She rocked in disbelief, continuing the read through. “Awe, ends bittersweet though.” 

“It’s going to be How to Lose A Guy in Thirty Days this time.” 

“A month?” She laughs and shakes her head, you give her a confused look. 

“What? I can do this!” You bump her shoulder. 

“Do what?” Namjoon strolls into your cubical looking between the both of you.

“Kid got her first column.” Ronnie sings she has a proud grin on her face. You spin around to look at Namjoon. 

His face lights up at the news, “That’s so awesome! Congrats!” He rubs your hair messing it up, you bat his hands away smoothing out your hair. 

“Thanks Joon.” 

“What’s it on?” Namjoon leans against your desk along side Ronnie. 

Ronnie hands him the magazine flipped open to the article. He takes it and examines it for a moment, he reads along and his eyes widen at times. You continue scribbling down some thoughts while he does this. Namjoon was a silent reader but would always share his full thoughts when he was done. 

“Woah, this is wild.” Namjoon flips back to the beginning of the article, like he had to read it over again. 

“I know the original one is a little insane but we are doing it differently this time.” You explain, Namjoon had concern written all over his face reading through the article again. 

“Quote, ‘after five days I decided to go ahead and take things to the next level between us. I completely redecorate his apartment with pink attire and stuffed animals everywhere.” Namjoon reads the section out loud. “She only knew him for five days?” 

You nod, “I don’t know how she was so brave to do all of that. Luckily Yoongi said I don’t have to be as extreme as this. Just more casually clingy and needy, do small things that most people think are normal but seem to send guys running before anything serious can begin.” 

“Yeah, I definitely hope you don’t end up ‘photoshopping your baby pictures together.’” Ronnie adds with a grin.

You laugh, shaking your head. “God, no. I’d sooner die of embarrassment. I don’t have the energy for that level of crazy.”

Namjoon leans back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in slight  concern. “So, what is the plan then? You’ve got something in mind, right?”

You sigh dramatically. “Not sure yet. I’ve got until Monday to find a guy and come up with some sort of idea of how I want to do this.”

“Oh, can we help?” Ronnie’s eyes light up as she bounces in her chair, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Help find the guy?”

“Obviously, and with the torture.” She adds, looking way too enthusiastic.

“I’m not torturing him.” You chuckle, “just… irritating him a little. You know, for research purposes.”

“Uh-huh.” Namjoon’s teasing grin softens as he looks at you, a hint of doubt creeping in. “But are you really sure you can do this, like… casually?”

You blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, come on.” Namjoon says with a snort, gesturing vaguely at you. “You wear your heart in a pink, sparkly basket for everyone to see. Are you sure you won’t fall for the poor guy instead?”

“I don’t do that! And I will not!” You protest, but Namjoon and Ronnie exchange a look that screams they definitely think you do.

“I’ve never seen you not get your hopes up after a date or two.” Ronnie says, shrugging sympathetically.

“Well, this time will be different.” You say, folding your arms defiantly. “It’s just business. I have to get the guy to break up with me anyway.”

They weren’t wrong, though, and you know it. You’ve always been one of those people who swoon at love songs and daydream about movie-perfect endings. You were the exact type of person this article was written for in the first place. You did get attached too quickly and were getting hurt too often. But this? This was just an assignment. A game. You wouldn’t get hurt if you knew it had to end from the start.

“You’ll see.” You add with more confidence, determined to prove them wrong.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ronnie teases, rolling her chair back toward her desk. It was well past time for her to get to her own work. 

Namjoon shakes his head with a chuckle. “Good luck to this guy, I guess.” He mutters, though there’s warmth in his voice. He’s seen you get your hopes up too many times to believe you could really keep things casual.

But this time, you were determined. No expectations. No daydreaming. It was all just work.

Across town, though, someone else was perfectly content with his easygoing, no-strings-attached lifestyle. Jungkook, waking up in someone else’s bed was just another morning for him. He opened his eyes but was blinded by the morning light. He rolled over and looked around, he had no idea where he was. Memories of last night vaguely coming back to the front of his mind. 

He looks over to see a sleeping girl in the same bed. He stands from the bed and manages to find his phone. Seeing the time. 

“Shit.” He rushes to find his scattered items and puts his clothes back on. Tip toeing his way around the room and manages to get out the front door without a fuss. 

Getting out of the building, Jungkook blinked as the morning sun hit him square in the face. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy from a less-than-restful sleep. Scanning the unfamiliar streets, he had no idea what neighborhood he was in, but that was par for the course these days. He pulled out his phone and called for an Uber, slipping his sunglasses on as he waited.

Another late night, another random bed. This wasn’t exactly new territory, but he couldn’t help feeling off. Normally, Thursdays were a quiet night in, but when Jimin and Taehyung wanted to go out, Jungkook wasn’t about to turn them down. And, as always, the night had ended the way it usually did for him—blurry and chaotic.

By the time Jungkook made it to the office, it was later than he would normally prefer to arrive. Slipping through the doors, he did his best to avoid attention although Hoseok’s keen eyes were already tracking him. Jungkook tried to get settled quietly, but it was pointless. Hoseok’s desk, conveniently right next to his, made stealth impossible.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Hoseok sang, swiveling in his chair to grin at Jungkook. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, then gave Jungkook an exaggerated once-over. “Did you lose a bet, or is that last night’s shirt?”

Jungkook smirked as he slid into his seat. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but in yesterday’s clothes. What’d you do? Roll straight from the bar to your desk?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clicking away on his mouse as he pulled up their latest coding project.

“Pretty much.” Jungkook admitted, booting up his own computer. “I’ll head home at lunch and change. No one cares what I wear to debug.”

Hoseok shook his head with a laugh. “You’re gonna blind the clients with your wrinkled t-shirts one of these days.”

“Fair enough.” Jungkook chuckled, typing in his password. “But I’m still better at the code reviews, so they can’t complain too much.”

Hoseok conceded with a nod, leaning back in his chair. “Rough night?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “You could say that. Taehyung and Jimin were relentless. Didn’t stop until the bar kicked us out.”

“Ah, classic.” Hoseok said with a grin. “They never know when to quit.”

Jungkook smirked, though he felt the exhaustion settling in his bones. “They’ve got energy for days, man. But, hey, what about tonight? You in?”

Hoseok hesitated, glancing at the lines of code on his screen before looking back at Jungkook. “Again? You don’t look like you’re dying to go out tonight.”

Jungkook chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I’m wrecked, but you know I’m down. Someone’s gotta keep Taehyung from getting us banned from another bar.”

Hoseok shook his head, clearly amused. “I dunno, man. I might actually take it easy tonight. Jimin’s been texting like he’s planning another big one, and I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to babysit.”

“You? Too tired to party?” Jungkook teased, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just complaining last week that we only go out when you’re drowning in deadlines?”

“I didn’t say I’m backing out.” Hoseok defended, though his reluctance was obvious. “I’m just... thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it, my ass. You’ll be there. I’ll text Jimin, tell him to go easy on the plans.” Jungkook turned back to his monitor, his fingers flying over the keys as he opened the project files for their current assignment.

Hoseok chuckled. “Yeah, alright. But if I show up and Taehyung’s dancing on tables again, I’m leaving early.”

“Deal.” Jungkook said with a grin.

 Then Hoseok’s smirk deepened, and he shot a glance at Jungkook. “By the way, has she called you yet?”

Jungkook frowned, glancing sideways. “Who?”

“Channel. She’s been texting me . Again.” Hoseok’s grin turned into a mock look of annoyance. “Seriously, bro, how is she still hitting me up to ask about you? You need to fix that.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I made it clear we’re done.”

“Well, apparently she didn’t get the memo. She asked me yesterday if you were ‘okay,’ like I’m your personal messenger or something.”

Jungkook sighed, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She’s probably fishing for info, trying to get back in touch. She wanted something serious, and I was always upfront about keeping it casual.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “And she didn’t take that well?”

“She acted like she understood, but... yeah, not really. I broke it off before things got messy.” Jungkook sighed. “Now she’s bugging you instead.”

“Lucky me.” Hoseok muttered. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. But seriously, dude, she’s asking me if you’re, like, in a dark place or something. I think she’s hoping for a window to swoop back in.”

Jungkook groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Tell her I’ve joined a monastery.”

Hoseok laughed. “Sure, I’ll let her know you’ve taken a vow of silence and reflection.”

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of coding and testing modules. By the time lunch rolled around, Jungkook had managed to convince Jimin to keep the plans for the night low-key—just a few drinks at a bar they liked. Hoseok seemed more on board with the promise of a relaxed evening, and Jungkook was glad. As much as he loved the chaos, even he was feeling the need for something calmer.

When they arrived at the bar that evening, it was more crowded than they’d expected. The hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses filled the air, and the warmth of bodies packed in tight hit them as they wove their way through the crowd.

“So much for a quiet night.” Hoseok muttered, dodging a couple who were clearly several drinks in.

Jungkook grinned, nudging him. “Come on, it’s Friday. What did you expect?”

“Less people and more chairs.” Hoseok replied, though the grin on his face said he wasn’t too upset about it.

Jungkook laughed, scanning the bar for a spot to settle in. Despite his earlier exhaustion, he could feel the pull of another night out with his friends, the familiar buzz of energy creeping in. There was something about the chaos of it all that he couldn’t resist.

“Over here!” Jimin’s voice cut through the noise, his arm waving above the sea of people as he flagged them down. He and Taehyung had already secured a table in the corner.

Jungkook and Hoseok exchanged a glance before making their way over, dodging elbows and weaving past groups of friends clustered around the bar. As they reached the table and took their seats, Hoseok let out a deep sigh.

“Jesus, there are so many people here tonight.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should have stayed home.”

Jimin smirked, leaning back in his chair with his drink in hand. “Aww, come on. It’s been forever since we’ve been out together.”

Jungkook chuckled, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “It was definitely a struggle convincing him to come tonight.”

Hoseok held up his hands in surrender, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Hey, I was promised a chill night with some drinks. That’s my kind of Friday night.”

Before anyone could say more, Taehyung appeared at the table, balancing a tray of drinks with ease. “Here you go, gentlemen.” He said, passing them around with a flourish.

A round of thank-yous followed as each of the guys took their drinks. Jungkook took a long sip, letting the cool, bitter taste of his beer settle on his tongue as he leaned back in his chair, finally starting to relax.

“So,” Taehyung said after a moment, turning to Jungkook with a curious smile, “where did you disappear last night, man?”

Jungkook barely had time to respond before Jimin interjected, his tone teasing. “Where do you think he ran off to?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows in fake suspicion.

The grin on his face made it clear he was referring to Jungkook’s extracurricular activities.

Taehyung snickered, shaking his head. “Oh, I see. Anything to tell? Did you find the love of your life?” His voice was full of amusement as he took another sip of his drink.

Hoseok snorted, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, right.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes playfully, tipping his head in Hoseok’s direction. “Hey, you never know.”

“Sure.” Hoseok said with a laugh, bumping Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m sure she felt some kind of deep connection.”

Jimin waved a hand in Hoseok’s direction, dismissing him with a grin. “Leave him alone.”

But Hoseok wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. He shrugged, glancing around the table. “I mean, as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him be serious with someone.”

Jungkook felt the familiar twist in his gut at the comment but didn’t let it show. It wasn’t that he didn’t want something serious—it just hadn’t happened in years. He took another sip of his beer, trying to brush off the remark. He had become somewhat comfortable in his solace and easy hook ups. Last thing he had to something serious was what he had with Channel, and that wasn’t even hardly serious.

Broke it off because she changed her mind about what she was wanting from him, Jungkook just really didn’t see a future with her and had always made his feelings about their relationship clear. He really came off looking like a dick but he didn’t want to drag her along. He didn’t want to drag anyone along. 

“I can be serious when I want to be.” Jungkook took another sip of his beer. 

“Yeah for like a day.” Taehyung teases. 

“Not even, more like an afternoon.” Jimin jumps on him with a laugh. 

“Try thirty minutes!” Hoseok adds on to the end before Jungkook waves them all of. 

“Thirty minutes?” He raised an eyebrow, “Give me more credit than that.”

“Fine, thirty-one.” Taehyung added on with another laugh. 

“Whatever,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Make your jokes but I don’t see any of you pulling in any serious relationships these days.” Jungkook points the top of his bottle around the group. 

“Hey, I have a date next week I’ll have you know!” Hoseok protests.

“This isn’t about us though, this is about you.” Jimin sits back in his chair. 

“What about me?”

“You’re not a relationship guy.” Taehyung sipped his beer. 

“I’m comfortable by myself.” Jungkook crossed his arms. 

“Nothing wrong with it, I just doubt you could ever be serious with someone.” Jimin shrugs. 

“I’d be a better boyfriend than you .” Jungkook kicks Jimin's leg under the table. 

“Yeah maybe when you’re fifty and decide it’s time to settle down.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a smirk. 

“No way, I bet I could be a better boyfriend than all three of you.” Jungkook was getting too serious and Jimin and Taehyug smelt a challenge in the air. 

“Wanna bet on it?” Jimin cocks his head to the side. It wasn’t unlike the three of them to make bets and they were always stupid.

“Aren’t we a little too old for bets?” Hoseok looks between the guys but he could already tell once Jimin raised the question, Jungkook was already locked into the idea. 

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook leans his elbows on the table. 

“I will bet a hundred dollars, that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than two weeks.” Jimin states and Jungkook almost feels insulted. 

“Come on, I can do better than that.” Jungkook goats Jimin, Jimin looks at Taehyung. 

“I’ll buy in. 200 bucks.” Tahyung jumps on it. 

“You guys are morons.” Hoseok shakes his head, Jungkook was up for the challenge but two weeks was insulting. 

“No, I can keep a partner around for way longer than two weeks. Come on.”

“Okay, how about a month. We’ll make it 300 bucks if you can stay with the same girl for one month.” Jimin jumps on it, between him and Taehyung they would only be out one fifty each. 

“But we get to pick who it is.” Taehyung quickly tacts on that little stipulation. 

“What? No fair.” Jungkook pouts. 

“ Totally fair. Hobi weigh in on this.” Jimin nods his head to Hoseok who was hoping to stay invisible but it seems he has been brought on as the referee. 

“I guess it makes sense, if you pick the girl it makes it too easy for you to win.” Hoseok logics it out but this definitely wasn’t starting to feel fair.

“Ugh fine.” Jungkook groaned, Jimin had extended his hand for a shake, Jungkook took it and they shook on the deal. 

“Again, idiots.” Hoseok knew this was probably going to crash and burn and Jungkook would be out three hundred bucks. Jungkook was feeling very confident though and perhaps a little too competitive. He felt sure he could sucker these two out of three hundred bucks. As well as get to hang out with a pretty girl for a while. Putting on all of his best charm. 

“So when do we start?” Jungkook looks between them. 

“How about right now?” Jimin taps his glass.

While that played out, across the same bar, you were sitting at a booth with your friends.

Catching Jin up on your new promotion at work and your upcoming column to be. The bar was buzzing with life, the noise blending into a background hum as you spoke, but you could feel the excitement rising between you all.

“No way.” Jin’s face lit up as he scanned the photos of the old magazine article on your phone. You had snapped a few pictures to give him the full story, and now he was reading it with wide eyes, barely containing his amusement.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Ronnie took a long sip of her cocktail, her expression still skeptical. She shook her head as if she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what you were planning. “I mean, I seriously can’t believe you’re going to go through with this.”

“Look,” You began defensively, though a smile tugged at your lips, “I know it’s a little out there, but Yoongi really thinks I can do this. He has his full faith in me.”

It was true. Despite the fact that this assignment would push you far outside of your comfort zone, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and determination. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you were confident you could handle it.

Jin, still holding your phone, read aloud with a dramatic flair: “ A friend of mine made a good point that I shouldn’t allow him to have a boys’ night, so I decided to get a key from his landlord to interrupt their game night! ” He glanced up with an incredulous look. “She really got a key from his landlord? That’s insane!”

You snatched your phone back, eyes wide. “Okay, I’m not doing that!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. “I’m just going to be clingy, needy. I’m not breaking into anyone’s house!”

“Good for her, honestly.” Namjoon chimed in, cracking open a peanut from the bowl in front of him. “The guy she picked probably deserved it.”

Ronnie nudged him with her elbow. “Didn’t you read the end? She ended up falling in love with him! Realized she was wrong and that he didn’t deserve all that treatment.” Ronnie leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Classic.”

“Of course, she did.” Jin chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. His eyes flicked back to you, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “That’s totally going to be you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I will not.”

“Please,” Jin said, laughing. “you’re such a gooey romantic. You fall in love so easily.”

Namjoon and Ronnie exchanged knowing glances, both trying—and failing—not to laugh. They knew better than anyone how quickly you could get swept up in a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t that you were naive, just hopelessly, undeniably romantic. And they were somewhat concerned about how this whole assignment might play out.

“Look, this is a professional column.” You said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s not like I’m actually looking for anything serious. I just have to scare him off. That’s it.”

“Either that or he will be on bended knee by the end of it.” Namjoon teased. 

“Very funny. That’s why I have you guys here though, help me pick someone.” You really did want some help on this part. If you got help picking the guy then maybe you could pick someone who it would be easy to let go of.

“How so?” Ronnie tilted her head at your request.

“Well knowing my luck I would accidentally pick a guy who is totally perfect for me and I really won’t be able to go through with it. If you guys pick then you could objectively find someone who is someone I would never go for.” You clap your hands together, hoping your explanation is enough. 

“Oh I’m so in.” Jin rests his chin on his hands. “Plus this bar is packed, we could easily find someone tonight.”

“Well we won’t find him sitting here. Let’s go fish.” Ronnie stands from her seat offering a hand to you, Jin following close behind. The three of you taking a turn about the bar, making observations at some of the different groups that were here. 

“Let’s see.” Ronnie taps her lips with her pointer finger and glances about the room as the three of you search from person to person. “Okay, guy at the bar. Sweater, cheesy and obviously cheap silver necklace.”

You and Jin both take a glance over to him, he seemed to be here alone. Looked nice enough, maybe a good choice. He seemed like a jock type, looked like he was trying with his looks a little too hard. You were considering it before Jin shook his head. 

“Not him, hes rubbed his ring finger like four times.” Jin points, just at that moment the guy does it again, “He’s either married or just got divorced and looking for another wife. Next!” 

“Touche.” You agree and the three of you glance around again. “Okay, how about that guy?”

You point to a small group of guys who seemed way deep into a game of pool. One of the guys sinks a cool shot into one of the pockets and he and another guy cheer too loudly, you were far away and you could still hear them. He looked like he was about to break his pool stick from excitement. 

“Nevermind. Way too intense.” It would have been a good choice but you would probably end up dumping him before you could get any work done. 

The three of you run through a few more guys as you walk around, all three of you seemed to find some reason to veto them again and again. Some were too close to your type and some were just too annoying for you to be able to stand them long enough to keep this ruse up. 

“God slim pickings tonight.” You were getting exhausted. You were considering heading back to Namjoon at the table and conceding for the night. Maybe sleep it off and try again at another bar tomorrow. 

“We can do this.” Ronnie cheers trying to keep your spirits high. “This guy is here, I just know it.” She had had more to drink at this point, she's a pretty energetic drunk. 

“I agree. No throwing in the towel yet.” Jin scans the room again, you guys had moved to many different spots and more people had moved in and out of the bar at this point. 

Jin looked around from guy to guy. Jin came this bar a lot so he had a general sense of the people who were new and the people who frequented here often. He wasn’t sure himself who would work for this, they had to be the perfect combination of nice enough to stick it out but still a playboy or asshole enough that you wouldn’t fall for them. Someone who maybe deserved a little bit of torture. Someone who needed a little due karma. 

He waited for a moment, maybe all three of you just needed to let the guy reveal himself. Before Jin thought it was hopeless was just when he got exactly what he asked for. 

Jungkook was making his way over to the bar.

“Bingo.” Jin whispered. Jungkook had left the table with his friends, the booth was tucked away in the corner so it was no wonder he didn't notice them before. “That’s the guy.” 

“Who?” You ask and then Jin points his finger, tracking Jungkook to the end of the bar. You watched him order from the bartender and then casually wait for a moment. 

“He’s perfect.” Jin was confident. 

“He’s cute?” Ronnie nods, Jin rolling his eyes at her. “What am I wrong?” 

He was very cute you thought, he sported this leather jacket and dark jean look. Large boots, it wasn’t your usually clean cut look that you enjoyed but you understood the appeal of it. 

“Okay why him?” You ask looking at Jin. 

“I’ve seen him here a lot. Always comes with a group of friends, but he never leaves alone. Never the same girl twice. I thought he stopped coming around, but nope. Looks like he’s still at it. His name’s something like Jungkook.” Jin places both hands on your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye. “Total Casanova. Leaves behind a trail of broken hearts.”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that make it harder to keep him around for thirty days?” 

“Not necessarily,” You say, the wheels turning in your head. “I just need him to dump me within thirty days. He doesn’t have to stick around for all thirty.”

“Longest I saw him entertain a girl for was maybe two weeks? That’s exactly what you need.” Jin shakes your shoulders and you laugh at the movement, almost dizzy after your two drinks. 

A playboy type who can’t commit for more than two weeks. It was exactly what you needed, and lucky for you you wouldn’t need to feel bad about maybe annoying him too much. You needed him to dump you no matter what. Could be fun after all, messing with a guy who is a fuckboy that Jin has seen around could be almost a perfect karma for this guy. 

“Perfect.” You say with a sly smile as you watch him walk back to his group balancing a few drinks in his arms along the way. 

Jungkook managed to set the drinks down gently, “Here you go boys.”

He passed the drinks outs but Jimin and Taehyung were deliberating about something. Jungkook looked between them and looked to Hobi for confirmation. Hoseok wasn’t totally sure what their hushed conversation was about. 

“I don’t know, seems like he could make that work too well.” Jungkook could barely make out the sentence coming from Tae. 

“No it has to be someone like that.” Jimin adds on and then they both seem to come to some silent agreement. Both sitting up straight in their spots. 

“What are you two whispering about?” Jungkook breaks the silence and they both have big grins on their faces, Taehyung is looking over the back of the booth to the bar. 

“Okay, we have made a decision.” Jimin puts on an announcer voice, holding his glass like a microphone.

“You picked someone? Already?” Jungkook was surprised they had come to an agreement on this so quickly. 

Taehyung looks back to Jungkook and nods, “Over there, short maroon dress. Waiting at the bar. Has a tall guy and another girl, dark hair and black dress with her.” Taehyung points and Jungkook looks. 

It takes him a moment, but then he spots you, mid-laugh about something with your friends. A small smile tugs at his lips—you were undeniably cute. There’s something polished about the way you’ve styled yourself, striking a balance between playful and sophisticated. To Jungkook, though, you scream commitment. Your look isn’t meant to turn heads; it’s just confident. It’s a stark contrast to the more overtly flirty, bold style he usually goes for. That makes him curious—why would Jimin and Taehyung pick someone who seems so... relationship-minded?

“Her really?” He looked back at both of them. “Do you want to just hand me the three hundred dollars now?”

“I know you think it will be easy, but that is the type of girl who wants marriage . I think her need for a commitment is going to send you running.” Jimin rubs his hands together evilly. 

Jungkook looks back to you again, thinking. Jungkook felt like he could very well be committed, he could do it probably better than most people. He just hasn’t wanted to or hasn’t had the time too.

“I will be Mr. Marriage Material from here on out.” Jungkook downs the rest of his beer, “Be ready to put your money where your mouth is.” 

Jungkook stands up and leaves the table, they watch him go to work. Taehyung was now nervous and Hoseok was not even sure what he was watching anymore. Also confused by Jimin's choice. 

“Okay, I gotta say he has a point.” Hoseok leans back to Jimin. 

“Yeah now I’m kind of nervous.” Taehyung rubbed his neck, watching Jungkook who was waiting for an opportunity to maybe get a chance encounter with you. The two friends hovering around you weren’t making it easy. 

“Trust me. I’ve seen that girl here before.” Jimin smiles. 

“Do you know her?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, now even more curious. 

“Not at all, but I tried hitting on her once. Very sweet, turned me down though. Seriously, the moment I walked up she read me like an open book.” This was earlier this year and Jimin didn’t care, he had some personal things going on and did it on a whim. You immediately saw through his tactics and called him out on it. 

“What did she do?” Taehyung became nervous. 

“I tried hitting her with a line, and she just looked at me and laughed. Honestly, I might’ve been offended if she hadn’t been so sweet about it. She even apologized! Said she could tell I wasn’t serious. Sent me on my way before I could even react. I swear, I was a little dizzy afterward.”

“Oh wow.” Hoseok is putting the pieces together now. “Okay, I see, so she is going to see through Jungkook right away.”

“Exactly.” Jimin raises his glass, “If he gives off even a whiff of insincerity. She won’t give him the time of day. She very clearly wants someone who is into the long term relationship game and Jungkook… never will be.”

“So you’re not concerned, not even a little bit?” Taehyung asks one more time. 

“Not even slightly.” Jimin clinked his glass against Taehyungs.

“So how is this going to work?” Ronnie looks between you and Jin.

“I’m not sure. What else do you know about him?” You look to Jin for advice on this. You came here sometimes but you weren’t as much of a frequent flier as Jin. 

“Hmm, unfortunately I usually see him hit on girls who are… obviously here for something casual.” He gestures towards another girl at the bar, she was dressed very differently than you were. More revealing, nothing wrong with that but it was starkly different to your look. 

“So maybe it's a lost cause?” You frown.

“Absolutely not.” Ronnie protested waving her hand back and forth.

“Just means you might have to be the bold one. Instead of him coming to you, you go after him.” Jin nodded and rubbed his chin. 

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah right.” Not like you couldn’t approach someone but it was still nerve racking. “I can’t do that.” 

“It’ll be so easy. Look he’s already coming over to the bar.” Ronnie nodded her head in his direction very subtly. You take a look from the corner of your eye and it was true. You turned your head pretending to see something else but catching a glance at him standing at the end of the bar, waiting. 

Jungkook sees you look his direction and pretends to be occupied with something else.

“Okay well if this is going to work, shew.” You wave your hands for the both of them to head back to the table, you take an empty spot in front of the bar. 

“Do you really think she can go up to him?” Ronnie nudged Jin, both of them push their way back to the table where Namjoon had been waiting. 

“Definitely. Well… normally I’d say no but she’s so determined I think she can pull it off.” Jin looks back at you ordering another drink. 

Once they both make it back to the table Namjoon takes notice, “Did she find someone?” 

“Yes, he’s so cute.” Ronnie gushes. 

“Too bad she has to get rid of him.” Jin shrugs as they all take their places and watch you from afar. 

“I know.” Ronnie sighs.

“So what’s the plan?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow. 

“She’s working up the courage to go up to him. I’ve seen the guy around before and he’s not really into her type. So she has to be bold.” Jin explains again, he looks over to Jungkook. 

Jin takes notice that Jungkook has already noticed you. He finds it odd for a moment before he sees Jungkook start to move. 

“Unless…” Jin starts. 

“Oh looks like he’s making a move.” Hoseok gestures over to Jungkook. He pushes himself off the end of the bar to start moving to you but gets cut off by a group moving close to the bar. 

“Let the games begin.” Jimin raises his glass. “We might make our money tonight.” 

“Cross our fingers.” Taehyung chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. 

“If he doesn’t blow smoke out of his ass you guys might be in for a long month.” Hoseok tilts his head watching Jungkook try to maneuver his way over to you. You were just barely getting a drink from the bartender. 

From their end of the bar, your friends could see it happening in real time—Jungkook making his way toward you, not without some difficulty from the proximity of other people. They couldn’t help but laugh at his struggle. 

“God, he’s like a moth to a flame.” Jin chuckled, crossing his arms. “Poor guy doesn’t even know what's going to happen.”

“Doubt it.” Ronnie added, leaning forward. “Y/N’s got this in the bag. He won’t know what hit him.”

Meanwhile, you weren’t so convinced that Jungkook was actually coming for you . After all, the girl beside you fit the typical type he seemed to gravitate toward—flirty, dressed to kill, and definitely giving him the look. Still, you had a plan brewing in your mind. If he wasn’t going to make the first move, you’d force his hand.

With a slight pivot on your heel right as he came up, you forced your shoulder into his chest. Just enough to stumble.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, steadying your drink that had split on your hand, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t spill on you did I?” 

Jungkook’s initial reaction was a mix of surprise and awkward laughter. “Hey, no problem,” He said, chuckling. “Just missed the splash zone.”

“I swear I have two left feet these days.” You tuck some of your hair behind your ear. Faking your embarrassment, setting your drink down and getting a napkin.

“Well it’s a good thing I have two right feet.” Jungkook easing the tension and you laugh under your breath. 

“You always this quick to recover?” You tilted your head, offering him your hand—the one free of any cocktail spillage. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jungkook.” He took your hand with a grin, his gaze flickering over you like he was sizing up a challenge. He didn’t let go right away.

Now that he was closer, you could really take him in. He was infuriatingly attractive—the type you’d usually avoid for your own good. The type who knew he had an edge and knew how to use it. 

Now that Jungkook could get a closer look at you, he just thought that you were pretty. Pretty hair, eyes, lips. All of you was just pretty and sweet. Could see that pink glowing heart of yours on your sleeve. 

“What brings you here?” He leaned an arm against the bar, his stance casual yet deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His gaze pinned you down, leaving you no room to escape.

“Just out with friends, a celebration of sorts.” You turn and point to them, the three of them suddenly acting like their drinks were so interesting to look at. 

“What’s the occasion?” He didn’t even glance at them; his focus was still fully on you. The intense eye contact actually makes you nervous.

“My promotion.” Smiling like it was the full truth. Or rather, the promotion standing right in front of you.

He nodded, flashing a grin. “Congrats. Big deal?”

“Very big.” You rested your hand on the bar near his, just brushing the surface between you. “What about you? Out celebrating something too?”

“Just out with friends.” Jungkook gestured back to his own group at the other end of the bar. You followed his gaze, recognizing one of the guys, though you couldn’t place from where.

“I should let you get back to them.” You teased lightly, leaning ever so slightly away from him.

He tilted his head with a grin, clearly not interested in letting you go that easily. “Why rush? I wasn’t planning to be gone long, but then I got the wind knocked out of me.”

You smirked, feeling the heat of his gaze on you as you playfully patted your shoulder. “Just practicing for my football career.”

“Not a football fan but I’d watch those games.” Jungkook was going to make some form of physical contact, which is what he would have done by now but he held back. He could tell that’s not something you would appreciate. “Let me buy you another one. Since you lost half of the that one because of me.”

“That’s very sweet.” You wanted to test the limits you had with him here, would he chase you? “But I should get back. My friends may think I ran off.” 

“So soon?” He tilted his head at your sudden retreat. 

“You seem nice.” You start and lean close, “I think I’m just looking for something… more serious.” 

“Who's to say I’m not serious?” He gives you a puzzled expression. Jungkook had done so good with women lately that it felt strange to see such a sudden retraction.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “I’ve seen you around. I know your type.”

A lie. Considering you hadn’t seen him before tonight, you wanted to see if he would bite.

“So you’ve noticed me?” He stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek. 

“I’m just saying I know your type.”

“What if I am serious? You’d be running away before you could find out.” He flirted, a boyish grin on his face that dripped confidence. He was actually nervous, and the three hundred dollar bill hanging over his head was adding some pressure.

You giggled, leaning back slightly as you took a slow sip of your drink, eyes locked on his over the rim. “You don’t strike me to be serious about much of anything.”

His gaze flicked to your lips before returning to your eyes, his voice softer now, “What if I want to prove you wrong?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Prove me wrong? You barely know me.”

He smirked, stepping a little closer, just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. “Isn’t that half the fun? Getting to know someone new?”

“What makes you think I want to get to know you?”

“Call it intuition.”

Any other time, a guy like this coming up to you would have meant an immediate shut down from you. They were never serious, and they only ever wanted to hook up and never speak again. Tonight though Jungkook needed to be the bug caught in your web.

You pretended to mull it over, tapping the rim of your glass with your finger. “Hmm... cute line.”

“Not a line.” He shot back, more serious now. “But seriously, let me buy you a new drink?”

You were about to decline, but his eyes held yours, that quiet confidence making you hesitate just a second too long.

“Fine.” You said, sighing like you were giving in, but the small smirk tugging at your lips told him otherwise. “But you’re still going to have to work for it.”

“I plan to.” Jungkook leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping. “Let me get your number. I’ll take you out, show you what I mean by serious.” 

You fake contemplation and act like you really needed time to think about it, sucker . You tap the rim of your glass for a moment before you reach your free hand out to him, gesturing for his phone. Jungkook takes the silent victory and pulls his phone out, opening it for you. With a few quick taps and your contact information solidified in his phone.

The deed had been done.

“Don’t disappoint me.” You said, handing it back, your tone playful but carrying an edge of warning.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Have a goodnight Jungkook.” Turning on your heel leaving him there and just letting him watch you go. You b-line straight back to your table.

Jungkook was feeling good and felt like this was going to be a breeze of a month. He had to make sure that first date went well first. He would put on his best boyfriend face forward, it’s not that he couldn’t do it like everyone thought. It’s just been a long time since he last had the chance too. 

He made his way back over to his own table, he put on a fake sad face as he took his seat back next to Taehyung. 

“Strike out did you?” Hoseok patted him on the shoulder in comfort. 

“Yeah… struck off the first day of the month.” Jungkook raised his phone, revealing your phone number. Jungkook, a smug grin on his face. 

“I’m surprised.” Jimin sat in quiet contemplation, “But it won’t last.” 

“She’s cute. You guys should have picked more carefully.” Jungkook sighed, looking back into the bar in the direction of your friends and your table. Your back was to him so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of you. 

He then remembered he still owed you a drink.

Across the bar you settled back in with your friends. 

“I caught the whale boys.” You take a small bow and small cheers round around the table. 

“Congratulations.” Namjoon cheers you, hitting his glass with yours. 

Your friends leaned in, eager for the play-by-play of your encounter. You gave them the rundown. Ronnie, the first to break the silence, grinned and raised his glass in admiration.

“That was smooth, Y/N. You had him wrapped around your finger.”

You chuckled, taking a slow sip of your drink. “It’s even better that he thinks he’s in control. There's no way he was actually serious but a fun flirt.”

Jin shook his head, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. “You’re scary when you’re confident. I’m glad I’m on your side.”

“So what’s the next step in this little experiment of yours?” Ronnie asked, clearly invested in the unfolding drama.

“Well,” You began, swirling your drink in thought, “I wait for him to reach out. Then I’ll play it cool on the first date, get him comfortable.”

“Why play it cool?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows raised.

“Because,” You smirked, “if I’m too much, too fast, he’ll bolt. But if I ease him in, I’ll have time to start slowly being weird.”

Just then, a waitress appeared, sliding a pretty pink drink in front of you. “This one’s from the guy across the bar.” She said, nodding toward Jungkook, who was leaning against the counter, already watching you. “He said you’d know him.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the boldness. Lifting the glass slightly, you gave him a small, acknowledging wave, your friends immediately picking up on the gesture.

“What’s it called?” You asked, eyes still locked on Jungkook.

The waitress grinned. “It’s a Cosmic Encounter .”

“How pretty.” You muttered, a playful smirk forming. You brought the glass to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook as you took a sip. The sweetness of the drink contrasted sharply with the building tension between the two of you.

If the circumstances were different you may let yourself swoon at the gesture. Picking a cute drink for you. You may try to see if you really could get him to be serious. This was not that though, this was all business and you would have to continue to remind yourself.

Ronnie was the first to speak up again, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I’ll admit, he’s got moves.”

“Just don’t forget this is what he does.” Jin knowing how you are, felt the reminder needed to be put out there. That this is all temporary.

Just as you were about to continue, your phone buzzed softly in your hand. A text. Your eyes drifted down to the screen, and sure enough, it was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hope you like it… when are you free next?

You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your lips. “Speak of the devil.”

Namjoon leaned over. “Already? He really wasted no time.”

“Faster than I thought.” You admitted, typing a quick reply. 

:We’ll see, Jungkook. Maybe I’m busy.

The thrill of the chase was intoxicating, and as you sent the message, you could feel the game picking up speed. Both of you were circling each other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

You had no doubt, you were going to eat Jungkook alive.

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Taglist! : @vashimperial @httpjeonlicious @rinkud @vintagemoonsstuff @marimarvelfan @loomipee @leah-rose03 @irhdifartzamfyaa @smwhrinthehaze @tteokbokibyjk

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[thatrandombystander]

I finished rereading the fic, by which I mean I mostly read the first third until a certain point in the fic and went "ugh." at the writing/plot decision (which I actually do remember being exactly where I stopped reading the first time around years ago) and then heavily skimmed the latter two thirds of it

Unfortunately it's the sort of thing that like. Bruh I think there were some good ideas in there, but then it really started dragging out. Every character became the worst version of themselves and was constantly assuming the worst of everyone else, it was increasingly melodramatic, there were plot lines and characters that I don't really think added anything other than artificially extending the story by causing more problems and distracting from the core of the narrative.

Characters kept devolving into yelling matches, never really learned anything from the consequences of their actions and kept repeating miscommunication issues, and you can bet that if a character learned a secret they would blurt it out a chapter or two later in the middle of a heated argument which would ultimately make things worse. Also, homophobia???????? Bruh????

If you're doing a dark story of this length you have got to pepper in some proper positive payoffs and wins. Break up the dark tonal monotony and make those lows even better because we've got the highs to contrast them with.

Overall narratively unsatisfying but with a good dose of trim the fat editing and a little bit of reworking it could have been the sort of fic to tempt me to pick up bookbinding. Meaning it's that worst kind of story that leaves me repeatedly thinking about it because what if it was better!!!???

If you've been reading the tags in the prior chains of this post you would know that this was, of all things, a The Hobbit (movies) fanfic. Yeah yeah horrible things happened to multiple characters but the character I felt most sorry for was Bilbo, especially since the fic didn't seem too interested in him. My guy signed up for an adventure not all this nonsense. He (and several other characters) should have just gone "man fuck you guys, I'm out"

Sometimes you remember a truly dark longfic you were reading 10 years ago around 2014 and go on a quest to hunt it down. Good lord that thing kept going until 2018 and ended up over 700k words long. The amount of ongoing whump and psychological trauma in that fic was truly astonishing asdfghjkl

[my-brothers-corrupted]

It's okay to talk about how hurting you are, Jackie. You came out of it with scars and trauma too. You're not alone in your pain, and JJ and you have been through the ringer and pulled back again. It's okay to acknowledge that it hurts. Not everything is okay, but that's okay.

Jackie purses his mouth before sticking another handful of nachos in it.

"I'm just taking guesses here," says Bowlan. "But the only reason I'm bringing it all up is because I expect that the pair of you need some medical attention as well."

Blue and Jackie exchange sulking looks. Blue sips at his fizzy drink.

Bowlan sighs.

"Okay. Let's talk Kayden."

"Please," mumbles Blue.

"Schizophrenia is one thing. There are ways we can work on handling it. Sometimes schizophrenia does not respond well to treatment or medication, but based on what you've told me, I think some behavioral therapy and medication, along with social support, could really help Kayden improve."

"That's great. But you said you thought there was more than schizophrenia going on."

"Well, there's the obvious things - vitamin deficiencies and some other things I want to look into. His bones are pretty brittle. I'm not surprised he has old fractures. But psychologically, yes, I'm worried about other things. Your brother's traumatized. I'm concerned about Post-Incarceration Syndrome."

“What... what is that?” asks Jackie. “Like, what does that mean?”

“No matter what happened to you boys, it seems that Kayden has really felt that he has been alone – and possibly stuck in his room – for several months, believing that this Anti is forcing him to stay inside. So, while Post-Incarceration Syndrome is usually applied to someone who has been in prison, I think it might describe some of what your brother is going through. It often includes PTSD – the reliving his terror, the paranoia, the panic attacks and breakdowns – and can even include Stockholm Syndrome, which, in what I have to admit would make a very interesting case study, he seems to have developed through his own hallucination. Most concerningly, I think that Kayden is demonstrating Social Sensory Deprivation from long-term isolation.”

Blue's stomach flips. He stares down at his plate, losing his appetite fast.

“He has some stimming behaviors consistent with intense social deprivation, including, at times, self-harm, slamming his head into things or biting his fingers to blood. He's deeply obsessive. You've probably seen the way he draws for hours and hours at a time, often unable to stop even when someone tries to pull him out of it, and sometimes drawing the same thing again and again and again. He gets overwhelmed if you talk to him for too long, but at the same time, he seems almost alarmingly desperate for social interaction. He needs to be with people right now.”

“We won't leave him on his own again,” whispers Blue, unable to meet his eyes. “We... couldn't do anything about it til now.”

“All we can do is move forward,” agrees the old man kindly, stirring his tea. “I'm just sorry he's been through so much. And I'm glad he has you now.”

“Yes, forever now,” agrees Jackie. “I promise.”

“But there is another reason I'm bringing this up. Post-Incarceration Syndrome can also include personality changes and a shifted view of the world. In Kayden, this is appearing as learned helplessness and submissiveness, generally ingrained in a person as part of their survival mechanism in an oppressive or abusive environment. He has felt that he is completely at the mercy of this monster for a very long time, and that would make it difficult for anyone to get out of the mindset that kept them alive.

"On the other hand, in some prisoners, it manifests as aggression towards others and more angry, defensive personality traits and outbursts, trying to protect one's self from the abusive environment by lashing out. But Kayden has been mild – and in fact quite kind – so long as he isn't hallucinating a threat. There can also be a need for control and a preference for the set-up of the abusive system even if it was problematic. They're called Institutionalized Personality Traits – or just Antisocial Personality Traits. And I bring this up, boys, just because I wonder if maybe Kayden isn't the only one displaying some of these behaviors.”

Blue and Jackie look up together, and then at each other, sharing the same expression of alarm. Just as quickly, they turn back to their plates, Jackie scraping up his chips while Blue takes a hasty sip of his drink.

Bowlan laughs and then clears his throat apologetically. “Sorry, it's just that you two are certainly twins. I think you must be using telepathy.”

Blue sighs, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “We just... we're here for Dap – for Kayden.”

“If Kayden is the only one who's been through hell in the last few months, then sure, let's focus on Kayden,” Bowlan agrees, picking at his salad.

“I do have some control issues and a bad temper sometimes,” says Jackie. “Hard to keep my emotions in check. That's probably all you're seeing.”

“Ah,” says Bowlan, visibly unconvinced. “And yourself, Matti?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” answers Blue blankly.

“You're also quite thin, the pair of you. A little more active, I would guess, but quite thin. A little scarred up. A little panicky at times, if you don't mind me saying. Look, we don't have to get into it, I'm not a shrink, just... think about it. About getting some help for yourself.”

Blue turns away darkly, but Jackie's wheels are already spinning, absent-mindedly sifting his chips through cheese. He does have angry outbursts. He does cling to the brother system and relive bad shit that's happened to him, and sometimes he feels so angry at everyone else around him that he just wants to slink home to his brothers and spend the rest of his life hating the world until it stops scaring him. Post-Incarceration Syndrome. It repeats in his head.

Maybe it's a name for the enemy he's facing.

And if he can admit that there is an enemy to face, if he can admit that there is something that's hurting him - well, maybe then he can fight it too.

“What do we do to help Kayden with all that, though?” asks Blue. “Social isolation and learned helplessness and Stockholm Syndrome. Like a therapist, okay, sure. But what do we do? As his family?”

“I think it will be really good for him to be living with someone again,” Bowlan encourages. “Keeping him company, providing him with the social stimulation he's been missing. Just helping him live again, you know? He needs hobbies other than drawing for fourteen hours a day. Needs to get out of the house, to meet people, to remember who he was before all this. Help him make his own decisions and give him power in his life again so he doesn't think he just has to lie down and let this all happen to him. Respecting his choices is going to be key here. I've been watching you two – I know you want to take care of him. But you will need to be able to let him decide how to take care of himself too once he's feeling a little more stable. Otherwise you'll just become the new boss to him.”

Blue nods. He supposes that's what the cameras said too. Tearing down the big brother system. Treating Dapper like an equal. In the abstract, it all makes sense. He just needs to start applying it. Harder than it sounds, but... necessary. Vital, even. Shit, this is going to be difficult.

"Do you have any questions for me?" asks the doctor.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

journey, m | ot7

full title: journey to the dick

pairing(s): ot7 x reader

summary: A Cinderella story but it's a dick pic. Yup, that's right. You find a dick pic on your phone and make it your mission to find the owner of said dick. Time to fuck the seven hottest guys you know! Onwards!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of alcohol consumption / partying; horny crack, everyone radiates chaotic energy and wants to fuck; reader is comparing their dicks to above-mentioned dick pic so there's a lot of talk about dick, did I mention there's a lot of dick? dick; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics in some scenes, m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking, handjob, thigh fucking, dance studio sex, overstimulation, fingering, dry humping, 69, face-sitting, photography during sex, m-masturbation, being cummed on (neck / chest [a cum necklace LMAO] + hand), film studio sex, wall-fucking, being overheard / walked in on during sex (and not giving a shit, oops), implied car sex, implied threesome); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader; each member has their own scene

appearances based on the 'Butter' jacket photoshoots yes, the opening line is #50 of my prompt list LMAO title comes from Journey to the West, except it's dick because that's way more important. also, yeah, this is basically a harem hentai, but it's you and BTS, woohoo! :D

--

"Whose dick pic is this and why it is so inspirational?"

Park Jimin craned his head over to look at your phone, black hair brushing against your forehead. "Damn! That is an incredible dick."

"What are you guys talking about?" Kim Taehyung muttered, yanking your phone out of your hand and peering at the screen. His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up into his dark brown hair. "Oh, ho! What a high-quality specimen of a dick."

"Why is it on my phone though?" you frowned, taking your phone back from Taehyung. You were sitting next to Jimin on their sofa, contemplating the great mysteries of the world. The black phone case had a cute mouse holding a large sewing needle and sitting next to a spool of sky-blue thread. "I didn't take this one, sadly."

"Maybe you were real drunk," Jimin offered.

"I haven't been real drunk since I projectile vomited in your guys' parking lot."

"That was last week," Taehyung reminded you, smiling amusedly.

You narrowed your eyes. "Look, it was a bad breakup."

"You went on, like, two dates," Jimin laughed, smacking you in the arm.

"It had potential!"

"Yeah, a potential dumpster fire," Taehyung added, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the other side of you. "I know you go for the quiet, nerdy ones, but you're just–"

"Brash? Forward? Ready to sit on dick at any second?"

Jimin was being very helpful.

Taehyung shoved Jimin's grinning face away. "It's a conflict of personality and yours is quite intense, so maybe you should try and be more open-minded about other options."

You frowned, not enjoying this pep talk that you probably needed. In fact, you avoided said pep talk at all costs. You reached back and yanked on Taehyung's ponytail. He prodded you in the left breast in response, glaring. You smacked his hand. He smacked your hand back.

Hey, when you don't have a good reply, resort to violence, right?

You looked back down at your phone. Swollen, red-purple, a good thickness. Nice length too, so hard it was sticking up without the assistance of a hand. You could spy the white pre-cum beading at the engorged tip. It was a strangely clear and well-composed photo. Black boxer briefs. Blue jeans, white shirt.

Fuck.

Could literally be any guy in the history of existence.

You turned the photo to Jimin. "Someone must have taken it last night when I couldn't find my phone for those two hours."

Jimin nodded. "Yeah, seems like it."

"You remember anyone in this outfit?"

Jimin snorted, wrinkling his cute nose. "Everyone was in jeans and a white t-shirt. 'Cause there was that wet t-shirt contest later that night, remember?"

You scratched your head. Ah, yes. Taehyung won. Man looked fucking amazing thanks to working out his arms and chest the past month. Was it solely for the purpose of a silly party gimmick? Maybe. You weren’t complaining though. You did what any good friend would do.

"Oh, right. Who won?"

Taehyung grabbed your shoulders and violently shook you. "I did! Obviously – ah, fuck you!" His tone quickly changed when he realized you were laughing like a maniac, doubling over in a pile of giggles with Jimin. "You're the worst," Taehyung pouted, holding his arms protectively.

"I'm just kidding, don't be mad," you chuckled, reaching over to hug him. He accepted it, but not without continuing to pout. You nuzzled his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin. "I bought you your favorite breakfast when you were hung over this morning, come on now."

His dark brown eyes shifted back and forth before letting out a long, deep sigh and hugging you back. Damn. He had a nice hug now thanks to these arms and his broad chest. He smelled like warm chamomile.

"I worked hard for these," he mumbled.

You patted him on the back before releasing him and holding up your phone. Back to the first order of business.

"Is this your dick?"

Taehyung scrunched up his face. "No? But I don't look at my dick at that angle either."

You puffed your cheeks and turned to Jimin.

"Is this your dick?"

Jimin plucked your phone from your hand. He tilted his head to one side. Then the other.

"Lemme check."

Then he stood up and started walking to the direction of the bathroom. Still holding your device.

"Uh..."

You trailed off.

Taehyung blinked.

The bathroom door closed.

Pants unzipped.

"PARK JIMIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

-

"You have to be kidding me, Jimin."

"Be reasonable. I can't get hard from this dick pic. Don't you want to know the owner of said dick?"

You pursed your lips and squinted at your phone, standing in Park Jimin's and Kim Taehyung's shared bathroom, because they were roommates and your friends. The mysterious discovery of said dick pic from last night's party sparked this Journey to the Dick, because it was a very impressive, intriguing, and, most importantly, inspirational specimen of the male genitalia. Clearly you had to investigate.

For science.

Which was why you were standing in the bathroom with Jimin's sweatpants off and begrudgingly getting to your knees. Begrudgingly, because...

"I thought we were supposed to be ordering pizza and watching Running Man."

"We are," Jimin answered cheerfully. "After you suck my dick."

You glanced at the photo once more.

It remained, indeed, very rousing of certain interests.

You gripped the waistband of Jimin's black boxer briefs.

Hmm...

Hold on.

You stood up suddenly and took your phone from him, sudden determination overtaking you.

"I have to do this correctly."

Jimin blinked rapidly, jumping with a yelp as you flung open the bathroom door to reveal Taehyung throwing himself into the wall, coughing awkwardly and hiding his face with his hands as you marched out purposefully. Jimin was still pants-less.

"In the proper order!"

Jimin and Taehyung shared a confused look.

"The hell does she mean, proper order?'

-

kim namjoon.

“Namjoon, may I look at your dick?”

Kim Namjoon looked up from his book and blinked at you over his round glasses.

“Pardon?” he replied in English.

“Your dick,” you responded in kind, in English and with succinct pronunciation. “Your penis. Your willy. Your ding-dong. Your–”

Namjoon removed a hand from his book and held it up. “My what?” he interrupted you, laughing.

Oh good, back to Korean so you didn’t have to flex all the different ways you knew how to say cock in English. “Take off your pants.”

He blinked rapidly, innocently sitting there in his flowy white button-up and brown pants. He even had suspenders. Fancy man. He had dyed his hair recently, a steel midnight blue. That’s how Namjoon was, attractive and book-smart. Absolutely won the lottery when it came to genes and brains. You couldn’t see the title of the book he was reading, but it was probably a self-help or philosophy book. He was into those nowadays, exploring the human mind, while you were more into exploring the physical aspects of humanity.

Fucking.

Luckily, fucking didn’t usually require reading.

(Usually, heh.)

“I have no objections to your proposition. I’m just confused on why so suddenly.”

You dropped your canvas tote bag on the ground. Your red, short summer dress covered in yellow lemons flared out as you shifted your weight to one hip. Your phone was in one of your hands and you waved it around like a baton as you talked.

“Aren’t I usually sudden when I want to fuck?”

Namjoon chuckled, rich and deep, shutting his book and putting it aside. Probably memorized his page number. Big sexy brain and all that jazz. A fantastic characteristic of his.

He also had a big sexy dick you were asking to see right now.

“You are, but sometimes you offer to buy me a meal or a snack first.”

“I mean, sure, if you want–”

He lifted a hand and cocked a finger towards himself, smiling. When he smiled, his dimples appeared. That was your favorite feature on Namjoon. You bounced over excitedly and sat on the couch, skirt flipping up and exposing your thighs, still holding your phone.

“I’m on a mission.”

He quirked an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses detective-style. “What kind of mission?”

You pointed to your phone. “Do you remember that party we went to, the one with the wet t-shirt contest?” You lifted your arm and flexed your rather defined bicep that made Namjoon raise his eyebrows and mouth a wow under his breath. Consistent handys really did the trick when it came to bicep muscle definition. “You remember, right? You showed off your guns.”

He burst out laughing, waving a hand. “They are not guns.”

“Sure, they are. I could do a lot of social justice with your biceps, Namjoon.”

He shook his head, grinning, dimples on full display. “And what’s with the dress? You don’t usually wear such a cute style.”

You ticked your phone to the apartment front door. “I’m meeting Seokjin later, but he said he’s going to play another round of bowling because Jungkook kicked his ass again. But anyway, back to what I was saying…”

“Ah, yes. I think I remember Jimin mentioning something to me now.”

You brightened, unlocking your phone and holding up the screen. “Right! I’m looking for the owner of this dick.”

His eyes widened and Namjoon leaned forward, readjusting his glasses again. “Wow. That’s quite a clear picture.” Then he coughed and averted his eyes.

You nodded quickly. “Well? Did you take this picture?”

He frowned and sat back against the sofa, sucking in a breath and ticking his head. “Mmm, maybe? I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember what I did…”

“Hah… Does this look like your dick, then?”

“How would I know?” he chuckled. “I don’t see my dick from that angle and I don’t have sober photoshoots with my dick.”

You pursed your lips. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to fuck then. Drop the pants.”

The thing about Namjoon was that he was a very reasonable man. You had a problem and proposed a solution and he, an avid learner who liked searching for answers to the great mysteries of this world, had the means to help you out on your quest, so he did. In addition, he thought you were hot, you thought he was hot, and you’d already fucked a couple times before Journey to the Dick, so the mutual agreement was already there.

Splendid!

The other thing about Namjoon was that he really liked to make you work for it.

Slightly less splendid.

“Are you choking?”

You squinted at him and flipped him the bird. He was well-versed with popular Western hand gestures.

Namjoon nodded sagely. “That’s good.”

And he put his hand back onto the back of your head and shoved your mouth down onto his cock once more.

You had half a second to breathe again before air was forcefully taken from you, Namjoon now holding you there, nose-first into his crotch, sighing contentedly as he expanded in your mouth. You planted your hands onto his strong thighs and pushed, but his hand didn’t budge. The safe signal was three taps and you weren’t tapping out yet. You glared and Namjoon closed his eyes, smirking slowly.

He left his round glasses on.

‘Course he did.

Damn you, Namjoon!

You reached up and pawed at the buttons of his white shirt, making Namjoon open his eyes to see what you were doing as you unbuttoned them rather deftly for someone who had his dick filling up their throat. He looked down at you, cocking an eyebrow. You cheekily cocked one back, poking his pecs with your pinky.

He grinned. “Hm? What’s that?”

You clenched your throat around the head of his cock and he gasped, losing grip for a split second.

In that split second, you threw his shirt open, glorious his tan skin and large muscular pecs now in view, and slapped your hands down onto his thighs, instantly starting a fast, rough pace, curving your neck with every swallow, sandwiching his cock between tongue and top of your mouth, pulsing your wet muscles all over his length, staring at that well-built chest, watching the muscles ripple with his sudden, abrupt inhale.

“Oh, fuck!”

Sometimes you let Namjoon have the reigns, but this time you were on a mission, although it was a little distracting now because presently you had an unobstructed view of Kim Namjoon with his shirt open, head thrown back, midnight blue hair fanning over the sofa, his full lips open and panting, tendons in his neck tensing, broad shoulders flexed, leading down his defined chest and abs, core tight from your intense pace, thighs hard under your hands, cock swollen and thick, pulsating in your mouth. His large hands planted on top of yours, squeezing them with his.

The three taps applied to him too.

Instead, Namjoon moaned your name and gripped your hands.

“T-The picture… f-fuuuuuuuck…”

Shit, that’s right.

You reluctantly slowed, tongue swiping all over the underside of his dick, tracing the veins, moaning hotly around his cock. He lowered his chin, panting hard, dark brown eyes half-open and framed by his lovely silver glasses. It was him who reached for your phone and unlocked it. He remembered your pattern lock and you had only told him once. All your consistent fucks knew how to unlock your phone.

That’s how you had so many pictures of, ahem, good times.

He placed the phone on his hip and his head fell back against the sofa, inhaling deeply as you continued lapping at the base of the head, slowly sucking on it at the same time to keep him hard.

“Mmm, fuck, that’s nice…”

You mashed the tip of your tongue against the slit and coated it with pre-cum.

“Ah, come on, look already and compare,” Namjoon chuckled in his deep voice, raising a hand to pet your head. “Then you can finish me.”

You popped your mouth off reluctantly. “Hmm.” You placed a few fingers on his cock and looked at it, positioning it to the correct angle that matched the photo. “Huh, it’s pretty close. But you have this noticeable vein here, and I think the head of your cock is slightly different…” You squinted and brought your face rather close to his stiff length. “The skin tone seems right, but it’s not exact, and I think you’re bigger…”

Namjoon wrapped his hand around his dick and smacked your cheek with the head.

“Oi!”

You puffed your cheeks, strings of saliva and pre-cum covering your face.

He grinned, dimples on full display. “Oops.”

You jabbed your finger at your phone. “I’m doing an investigation here!”

He shrugged cheekily. “You said it wasn’t exact. Get up.”

You put your phone on top of his book on the side table and glared at him. “Well, yeah, but no need to bop me,” you grumbled, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, standing up, and removing your panties as Namjoon reached over to his pants and pulled out a condom from the pocket.

You did say you were coming. Namjoon liked to be prepared for you.

“You said you liked it,” he mused as you straddled his lap.

“I do when I’m notin the middle of an important mission,” you huffed, picking up the hem of your dress and revealing your wet pussy, chin cocked in defiance.

“You don’t have to sit on my dick then,” he said, pausing with the condom right over his cock.

You frowned. “Hurry up.”

He cocked an eyebrow, dark brown eyes trapping you in his allure. “Doesn’t seem like you want it.”

You narrowed your eyes.

Growled.

Then you smacked his hands away and rolled down the condom yourself before sliding onto him with one swift motion, clenching your jaw at the sensation of being quickly and solidly filled up, not giving him or you time to adjust. Namjoon tensed his neck, grinning, large hands coming up to firmly grip your hips. Your own came up to grab his biceps and squeeze them, mustering up your most indignant scowl. He chuckled, smirking as you pulsed your walls around him.

“Hold your dress so I can fuck you.”

“Maybe I want to do the moving.”

He clicked his tongue and rammed his hips up into you, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being driven into your tightness. Your nails dug into his arms, breaths shallowing into rapid gasps as he continued, firmly and roughly fucking you from below, hard thighs flexing and smacking into your inner thighs and ass.

“Hold your dress,” he repeated, voice low and commanding.

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered, reaching down with one hand to yank up your dress, pulling it up high so both you and Namjoon could watch as he very deliberately and very forcefully thrust upwards into your tight hole, smirking wider as he witnessed your expression and the strain of keeping the pleasure off your face.

“Don’t have to give orders if…” He jerked up particularly hard, hitting your sweet spot, causing you to gasp breathlessly. “You…” Smack! You bit you lip, moan trapped in your chest. “Just…” Smack!

“F-Fuck…”

“Listen.”

And then Namjoon seized your hips and fucked you hard and fast with you barely holding on his shoulder with one hand and the other clutching your dress, moaning his name shamelessly to his own face. Namjoon wasn’t a gloater. His face was serious and concentrated, brows furrowed and intent on giving maximum pleasure, maintaining clear control as you rapidly lost it, allowing and trusting him to lead you into carnal desires.

You leaned forward, hot exhale on his neck, changing the angle and letting him hit you deeper, tightening around him. You heard his breath hitch, hissing out your name. Your whispered against his jaw, close to his ear.

“You like it better when I don’t listen, Namjoon.”

So close, so close, so close.

He snickered, dark, devious, sensual.

“I dolove punishing you with my cock.”

You slid your hand into his midnight blue hair and shuddered, pleasure blooming from your core in heated throbs, savoring the intensity of the orgasm he gave you as Namjoon groaned in your ear, slamming you down onto his hard, twitching cock and moaning, spilling his own into the condom, thoroughly enjoying the vicious massage of your spasming pussy. You pressed your lips to his temple, flinching with the shivers that came after, riding out the peak by rocking your hips lightly, enjoying the fullness he gave you.

“Doesn’t seem like a punishment. I’m having a lot of fun,” you taunted, panting and mirthful.

He gave your ass a playful smack and you squeezed his length from top to bottom.

“We have time for round two,” he murmured, nibbling on your ear.

Kim Namjoon was a very reasonable man.

-

kim seokjin.

"Gah, fuck!"

"As a matter of fact, yes, let's."

Kim Seokjin nearly tripped and fell against the doorframe, gawking at you. His expressive brown eyes went wide, mouth open enough for a nice ice lolly to be placed between those plump lips.

"Why are you in my bed? Where are your clothes? Why are you holding Pink Bean like that?!"

You sighed exaggeratedly. Here we go. "I had a nice dress but Namjoon took it and said I can't have it back until after." You squeezed Seokjin's large Pink Bean plush that he usually kept on his bed, a fluffy representation of a boss from his favorite PC game, MapleStory. It had a bubblegum pink head, light purple horns, and a cute :3 face. You squashed it with your breasts and looked up at him, on your knees with your feet tucked under your ass, missing all your articles of clothing thanks to Kim Namjoon.

Such cute clothes only for him? I don’t think so.

Seokjin turned bright red, sputtering.

"D-D-Don't do that to Pink Bean!"

"Why not? You've fucked me from behind and I used Pink Bean as my chest support."

He strode across the room with two steps, his long legs making it easy, looking handsome and summery in his pastel yellow shirt and shorts two-piece set, flapping his hands helplessly.

"That was a special case!"

You started bouncing on Pink Bean, you and your tits. Seokjin's brown eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he actually tripped at the end of his bed, falling face-first with a high-pitched yelp.

"Seokjin, I need to see your dick."

He yanked his head up, chestnut brown hair flying everywhere, shooting you a confused glare.

"Yah! You can't just show up naked and start demanding dick while abusing Pink Bean!"

You reached up and scooped your breasts forward, squashing them between the purple horns, nipples poking out above Pink Bean's head. Seokjin looked like he was about to pass out. Probably from loss of blood to his head.

You balanced your phone in your cleavage, inspirational dick pic between your tits.

"Is this your dick, Seokjinnie?" you asked sweetly.

He started, squinting at the screen between your tits. "The heck? What is that?"

"A dick. Is it yours?"

Seokjin made a disgusted face.

"Are they really that ugly? Mine sure as hell isn't."

"Oh, so it's not? You know for sure?"

Seokjin scoffed. "Come on, there's no way that could be mine, look–"

And he sat up and yanked his shorts and underwear off, slapping them down on the floor and spreading his legs, presenting his very hard and quite pretty dick and balls. He huffed triumphantly, planting his hands in his hips.

"How could that thing compare to–gah!"

You crawled over Pink Bean, shoving the plush against your stomach and placing yourself between Seokjin's long legs, oblivious to his shriek of surprise, holding up his shirt as you compared his cock to the one on your phone.

"What the–where did you g-get that picture?!"

Your hot breath wafted over his twitching length as you held it delicately with your fingertips, ass up in the air, tilting his dick to adjust the angle so he mirrored the photo. "Remember that party with the wet t-shirt contest?” you explained nonchalantly. “The one where I said you'd totally win because of your broad shoulders, but Taehyung got more votes because he had been working out and looking all buff recently?"

Seokjin was gasping as you held up your phone. Hmm, not the same thickness. Plus, he seemed harder, sticking out straighter than this photo dick. But there was a small mole in his dick that seemed to match the picture. The length is pretty spot-on too. You scooted closer, cradling his cock with your palm and coaxing it with your fingertips, ass bouncing on Pink Bean's head.

"Oh, fuck..."

"Anyway, someone snapped this photo and I've been trying to figure out who, but everyone was drunk and, if I recall correctly, you were on a table dancing with a pool noodle and belting Kim Yonja's 'Amor Fati', so I don't think you remember much from that night."

Seokjin's voice was pitched, strained from holding back.

"I remember those... oh, fuck... those shorts you were wearing... ah, with your ass hanging out on the bottom... fuck, wanted to bend you over... but yeah, after that..."

Then you yelped when you felt his hands on your head dragging you forward and pressing your open lips to his cock.

"Ah, yeees..."

"Seokjin, wait–mphf!"

He shoved the head of his cock into your lips and looked down. You narrowed your eyes as he began to gently hump your face, filling your mouth with the hardness. You sucked in your cheeks a little, molding your mouth to him, still giving him your best annoyed face.

"Is it my dick?" he gasped, pushing deeper.

You made a confused noise and Seokjin frowned at you.

"Yes or no?"

Seriously? You held up your hand and hovered it in the air, wiggling your fingers up and down, the universal sign of–

"What do you mean, maybe?! Oh, it's because a phone camera isn't good enough to catch the majesty of my cock, is that it?"

You could had been annoyed, but then you thought about it. He brought up a good point. You hadn't considered that. Still, the shape wasn't exact though. A phone camera couldn't alter dick angle, right?

No time to think about it because Seokjin rammed his entire length into your mouth and down your throat in your moment of contemplation.

"Mmmphf!"

"Just, ah, don't move, let me fuck your face real quick–"

You didn't really expect anything less, so you pushed him down, sliding his shirt up his torso, changing the angle so you weren't straining your neck. Seokjin fell onto his elbows, hands letting go but hips still moving, groaning as you enclosed your mouth around him and rubbed your tongue all over.

"Ah, your ass is so sexy, damn, bounce it for me..."

He seemed to forget that in order to do that, you had to hump Pink Bean like a dog in heat but, hey, when the man who called himself World Wide Handsome (drunk and sober, that was the kind of man Kim Seokjin was) asks you to twerk for him, you do as you are told and give Pink Bean the best hump that plush is ever going to have.

"Fuuuuuuuck, yes, your ass is so perky and juicy, fuck, like a sweet peach..."

You tried not to choke with laughter in his dick, but the action made your throat muscles squeeze and spasm around the head, immediately making it jerk and swell at the added simulation, causing Seokjin to gasp your name and fiercely clutch his sheets.

"Fuck, yes...!"

You looked up, cocking an eyebrow, seeing his brown hair messy and fallen over his forehead, eyelids fluttering, panting as you took over the pace, firmly enveloping him all the way to the base, sandwiching him between your tongue and roof of your mouth, dragging the head over the slick wetness, pulsing expertly around his hardness. His dainty pink tongue flitted over his lips and made them glisten, full, plump, sexy as hell.

"I'm so glad Namjoon took your clothes," he wheezed.

This guy really said whatever thought that popped into his handsome head.

You smirked around his cock and wiggled your eyebrows.

Then you grabbed his hips and really gave it to him, fast and tight, angling your head so he slid into your throat deeply and easily, sending Seokjin into a sputter of curses, prayers, and blessings to who-knew-what, gripping fistfuls of his sheets and throwing his head back, beautiful neck on display and broad shoulders flexed, moaning loudly.

You almost stopped, awed by his perfectly sensual posture.

Then Seokjin thrust his crotch into your lips and gasped your name, shooting down your throat in swift, tense jolts, forcing you to stop staring at him and hurriedly gulp it all down, squeezing your eyes shut so you could concentrate, sucking in a short breath, and making him yelp, flinching to cram more of the head into your constricting throat.

You prodded his stomach sharply and drew an ‘X’, telling him to stop so you could swallow.

“B-But…”

You gave him a bunch of other hand gestures and none of them were nice. It contrasted the way you were lapping at his cock, coaxing him back to full hardness with soft tongue and delicate pushes against the roof of your mouth. He lifted one of his hands and started messing with yours, the one on his stomach making obscene hand signals. You felt him try and grab your fingers, poke at your palm, and, finally, grab your hand and tug it up, shoving your fingers into his mouth.

You popped your mouth off his cock in surprise. “Hey!”

Seokjin looked at you with giant brown eyes like a dog caught with a treat in his mouth. “Mmphf?”

You made a confused face at him.

His tongue started sliding between them, licking your joints and pads of your fingers, wiggling all around, covering you with his saliva and sending shivers over your skin at the strange sensation. You could feel the power in that squirming muscle, his brown eyes watching your reaction, your own eyes fixated on the way it looked, three of your fingers surrounded and crammed into those lush, soft, pillow-like lips, squirming, sensual tongue slipping between them, dripping saliva down your palm and back of your hand.

“H-Hey…”

It was bizarre, feeling an odd juxtaposition of the submissive nature of the act, and yet he was deliberate and forceful about it, staring pointedly as the tip of his tongue snaked out from the side of his lips, licking the side of your pinky.

“S… Seokjin…?”

He reached up and pulled your hand out of his mouth, the pads of your fingers dragging on his lower lip, wet streaks of saliva painted down his chin.

The ghost of a smirk on his open mouth, eyebrow ticking arrogantly.

You blinked at him, unaware that you were clutching Pink Bean with your other hand so hard that your knuckles were white.

Then Seokjin grinned and wrapped your wet hand around his dick and started jacking himself off with it.

“Hey! I want that in me!”

“What? Gah!”

Somehow, you convinced him to fuck you – read: threw Seokjin down on his own bed, put a condom on him, rolled him back on top of you and guided his cock to your pussy before grabbing his ass and yanking down, making you both gasp as he entered you with one smooth stroke, your back on top of Pink Bean.

Pink Bean was really seeing a lot of your naked body today, just like Kim Seokjin.

“F-Fuck– yah!”

That was his noise of protest as you yanked his yellow shirt over his head, throwing it as far as you could, out his still open bedroom door.

“Sorry, needed to get rid of useless things.”

“I like that shirt!”

You grabbed onto his wide shoulders and rolled your hips up into his crotch, wrapping your thighs around his waist and squeezing. He sputtered at the intense feeling of your pussy wrapping around him, arms shaking to hold himself up, brown hair messy and wild over his forehead, brown eyes wide in indignation.

“Sorry, my bad, I’ll pick it up after I get another out of this magnificent dick,” you quipped.

Seokjin turned red, unaccustomed to someone other than himself complimenting him.

“Why are you hanging onto me like a monkey – oh my God…!”

You used his mattress and Pink Bean to bounce up and down on his dick from below, fingers tangled in his hair, wetly smacking your hips into his crotch, panting his name into his ear, your cock feels so fucking good, love the way you fill me, fuck me up, Seokjin, giving him the praise that he wanted and that breathless moan he liked, the one where you added a bit of underlying mischievous depth, pulling back one of your hands and tracing his plush lips, his mouth opening and pink tongue lolling out, puling you into that wetness, locking his gaze with yours.

Soft and tight around two of your fingers as you slapped your hips into his, losing a bit of your power now that a hand was occupied, intense sparks shooting from your fingertips to your core, his tongue sliding sensually between them, your juices leaking out, getting wetter and wetter, head emptying and replaced with sinful pleasure as you stared into those dark brown orbs with blown-out pupils, sparkling eyes smiling at you.

Seokjin took over and started fucking you into his mattress (and Pink Bean).

Both of you completely forgot about the dick pic.

-

min yoongi.

"Ah, fuck, I forgot, I need to see your dick, f-fuck!"

"It's," Smack! "A," Smack! "Little," Smack! "Busy at the moment."

"Yoongi!"

The bed shifted and hit the wall.

"Oh no," came the most unbothered oh no behind you.

"Your damn neighbors are going to complain again," you hissed, planting your hands on the mattress and lifting your upper body up a little to scowl at him. "They're so annoying."

"Yeah, that's why I like fucking you," Min Yoongi snickered, looking back with his curly black mullet in complete disarray, smirking lips dark and swollen from making out. He raised an eyebrow at your displeased expression, dark brown eyes flashing. "Something wrong? Not rough enough for you?"

You narrowed your eyes. "I need to see your dick when it's fully hard."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. After this one."

"Yoongi–"

He cut you off. "Hand," he ordered.

You extended your left hand out back to him and he grabbed your forearm, long fingers gripping tightly, before proceeding his railing of your pussy from behind, your ass smacking into his crotch repeatedly.

"Yoongi – ah, oof!"

You slipped and fell face first into his pillows, gasping at the altered depth of each thrust, hard and deliberate, filling you up as you clenched around him, following his rhythm by pushing back with your hips and moaning as Yoongi slowly built up the pace, bottoming out each time.

"Why do you need to see my dick?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't pounding you with it right this very second.

"Because, oh fuck, someone left a, fuck, Yoongi, yes, dick pic on my phone, aaah, right there, fuck, you're so fucking good, that night of the party, the one with the wet t-shirt c-contest, fuck, Yoongi, I love your dick so much, fuck!"

"Why would I do that?" he grunted, spanking your ass with his free hand and making you claw at his sheets, pain seeping into the pleasure and amplifying it, skin prickling hot, causing the excessive dripping between your joined legs. The headboard was now repeatedly smacking the wall.

"I dunno, you were drunk too, do you remember, mmm, yes, harder, yeah, like that, telling Taehyung you loved him and that he was your favorite little alien child?"

Behind you, you heard Yoongi choke slightly in embarrassment.

"No, I do not..."

"See, maybe you jacked off and snapped a memoir on my phone."

Yoongi let go of your arm and firmly gripped your ass with two hands.

"Memoirs are written."

"Maybe if they wrote their name, I wouldn't be on this journey – ah, Yoongi!"

You grabbed fistful of sheets and snapped yourself back up, your hair messy and cascading down your shoulders, meeting every vicious slap of Yoongi's hips to yours, his balls hitting your soaked clit and sending stings of satisfaction from your core to your limbs, so good, moaning his name, his growl of yours punctuated by his nails digging into your ass, give it to me, come on, and you fucked him back, pressing your palms into his sheets and feeling the shuddering ecstasy again and again, deep pulses tightening around his hardness, making him groan with want.

"One more, one more, I'm so fucking close, fuck..."

"You've been close, you're holding back, you're a dick, ow!"

Yoongi smacked your ass particularly hard and you clenched your core so tight that he gasped and probably delayed his orgasm even further.

"You're the one asking to see it," he panted, adjusting the angle to shove you further into his bed even though it wasn't possible, and continued his relentless assault in your pussy.

"If anyone has a nice dick, it's you, you bas... fuuuuuuuck, Yoongi, yes, I'm gonna c-cum, fuck!"

The pleasure shot through you like lightning, waves of tortuous triumph as you clutched his pillow and screamed his name into it, your juices leaking out from around his pumping cock and splattering onto his crotch and inner thighs, drenching his balls, saturating his skin with your sweet scent, Yoongi moaning your name and squeezing your ass as he fully sheathed himself in your shaking walls and exploded into the condom, his whole length twitching and shivering inside your spasming pussy, your ass prickling on pain, both of you gasping for air.

Someone on the other side of the wall was banging it and told you two to shut the fuck up, or at least you assumed that's what that muffled yelling was.

You and Yoongi ignored it.

"Are you... hah... okay?" Yoongi panted, rubbing your ass and kneading it.

"Of course, I am, what do you take me for, an amateur?" you chuckled, lifting your head, your breathing erratic and uneven. "Now let me see your dick, Yoongi."

The other side of the wall kept swearing. Very colorful, very loud, very upsetti in the spaghetti.

Poor thing must not be getting laid regularly.

"Fuck, fine, you know I like staying in there at least for a little while..." he grumbled, holding the condom down as you untangled yourself from his body, sighing exaggeratedly as you turned around and yanked it off. You tossed it into the trashcan that was already beside the bed.

Yoongi had the foresight to be prepared for a night with you.

"I don't have to leave soon. We have plenty of time."

The shouting through the wall seemed to have given up, kicking it once and swearing very heatedly before stomping off.

"You better not. I'm not finished with you."

You picked up your phone and unlocked it, opening your photo gallery, pushing Yoongi down so you could wrap your fingers around his slick, semi-hard cock. It throbbed contentedly in your hand as you began to move it up and down in smooth, tight strokes, flexing your fingers to add variation in the stimulation.

"Mmm, fuck, yeah, faster..."

You pulled the photo up and put your phone on the bed beside his hip and calmly continued your movements, looking down at him, him and fair-skinned cheeks with a slight fluffiness to them, him and his lightly upturned upper lip that gave him a cat-like appearance, him and his lowered lashes over black-brown orbs that held quiet, sensual intelligence. His hair was messy from fucking you so hard, but he was effortlessly sexy regardless, leaning back on his elbows, torso lifted to watch your hand. Yoongi noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow, wispy black strands grazing his dark brow.

“What?”

You smiled.

“Just thinking you’re really hot, Yoongi.”

He cringed slightly, ears turning pink and shifted his eyes away, closing them. Your own roamed down, down his defined shoulders and toned arms and chest, sucking in a breath at the sight, that slim waist and pretty hips, his cock filling up your hand, getting harder and harder, the head getting darker from sensitivity, the slickness of the lube and his own cum making it easier for you and better for him. Your other hand traced his side, running your nails over it and you heard his low moan, raising your head and your eyes found his. He was observing you again, glancing from the photo to you, the corner of his lips tugging upwards, ticking his head to the screen.

“That it?”

You ran your nails over his skin, just the way he liked it, light, pressing in a little when it came to the upper side of his hip, seeing his pupils expand and his breathing shallow, pink tongue licking his lips slowly.

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly.

You increased the pace, pumping him from base to head, entranced by Yoongi’s expression, desire and cockiness despite becoming unraveled in your hands, his lower body trembling under you, your thighs pressed to his tense ones, tempting you to sit on and rub yourself all over them.

“Pretty dick.”

Slap, slap, slap. Hand on wet cock, sending shivers through you and through him.

“That’s why it could be yours.”

You saw his cheeks flush light pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he made piercing eye contact.

“Stop.”

You gasped sharply and ceased all movement, feeling his rigid stiffness pulse against your palm.

“Look,” Yoongi commanded in that low, raspy voice of his.

You bit your lip and removed your hand, strings of fluids snapping between your fingers and his hot, taut skin. His cock was so hard that it was sticking straight up, dark and imposing, twitching slightly. Long pale fingers picked up your phone and held it next to his erection.

“Well?” he chuckled.

You chewed on your lip, squinting at the screen. Reached over and ran your wet fingers over his twitching length, hearing Yoongi hiss and gasp at your touch as you angled his dick to match up with the photo. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult – the position seemed to match up perfectly. He was a little taller and thicker though. The shape of the head was similar, but also a bit off. The skin tone wasn’t quite correct either, the red-purple with subtly differing undertones. Still, lighting might affect that kind of detail. It wasn’t like you knew where this picture was taken.

“Hm… It’s really close, but not an exact match.”

“Well, damn.”

Yoongi tossed your phone aside carelessly, hand reaching out and you bent down, already knowing what he wanted, lips to lips, sliding against his body. You loved the way he kissed. Intense but soft, hand on your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek, nail grazing your earlobe, whispering into your lips, put me between your thighs, and you shifting up, closing your thighs around his wet cock, his lustful sigh and smirk on your lips, slowly thrusting in between your legs.

“Tighter.”

You hooked your ankles, one over the another and squeezed.

“Mmm, fuck yes, you’re so good…”

His words reminded you of the first time, crammed into the backseat of a small car, snuck out of a party to have Min Yoongi pull you into his grasp, tongue and lips all over you, your arms over his shoulders, wondering what you were doing because this kind of guy wasn’t your type, quiet, yes, a music nerd, yes, however he knew what he was doing, light bites on you skin making you gasp and slide down his jean-covered thigh, delicious friction to your soaked panties, tipping your head back to give that decadent mouth more access to your throat.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. A certain someone was probably wondering where you were.

“Yoongi, how… fuck, yes, how are you so good… you’re so good…”

His deep voice over your vocal cords, vibrating them with his seductive tone.

“DND your phone,” he purred, drawing a line down your throat with his tongue, coating you with his saliva, his musky, woody cologne transferring to your shivering skin.

“What…?” you panted, unable to think straight.

He plucked it out of your back pocket, tapping it against your arm.

“Put it on do not disturb and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll be coming back to me all the time.”

You fumbled with your phone, strong hands scooping out your breasts from your top, those lips sinking into your cleavage and tongue ghosting over your nipples, moaning as you dropped it, ignoring Park Jimin’s text, lost in those skillful hands and that expert mouth that eventually kissed down to your pussy and drove you crazy, but not before setting your skin on fire and making you beg for it.

“Yoongi…”

His lips on yours, his eyes and your eyes both half-open, marveling at the way his lashes adorned those black brown orbs and the way he looked at you, drunk on lust and your body.

“You want me?”

Hands on your hips, grinding you down on his thigh, teasing you. He wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type… so why, why did that sly, knowing gaze do things to you? Why did it make your heartbeat stutter and your juices seep into the denim of his jeans, so turned on that you didn’t want anything else right now but Min Yoongi?

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Y… Yeah…”

That smirk.

“I know you do.”

You did end up coming back all the time.

He was very good and it wasn’t just his mouth.

Yoongi backed up and smirked, open-mouthed, mischievous, so fucking hot that you felt your pussy throb at the mere sight, his warm, pulsing length still jammed between your soft, closed thighs.

“You wanna ride my dick?”

You grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You completely forgot about the photo and spent the rest of the night on Yoongi’s cock and ignoring the yelling from his neighbors.

-

jung hoseok.

“Hoseokie…”

Teeth on your ear, a dexterous, teasing tongue flicking your earrings, your name coming out of that heart-shaped smile in a low, sultry whisper that contrasted it.

“You can’t come here looking like this and not expect me to want to ruin you,” Jung Hoseok purred into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your lips curved into a smile.

You were on your knees, spread out a little, short black minidress hiked up your thighs, facing the mirrors of the dance studio. Hoseok knelt behind you, hands travelling all over your body. Deft fingers, neatly manicured nails, his sharp jaw grazing your shoulder, pulling down the thin straps. Your large hoodie was tossed to the side, scattered onto the hardwood floor in haste. The frosted door of Smile Hoya’s rented dance studio space was locked, hip-hop music blaring loudly, and in the center was you and Hoseok.

You knew he could hear your shuddering exhale well, already attuned to the sounds of your pleasure.

He smirked and kissed the top of your ear, yanking down the top of your dress.

It wasn’t like this the first time.

“Ah, well, I was hoping… wondering, ah… I don’t know how to say…?”

You were in his bedroom at the time, confused. “Yoongi said you wanted to talk to me about something? What is it, Hoseok?”

He had been very nervous, somewhat shaky, staring into your eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand, tilting your head. He took a moment to speak, hiding his brown eyes under his blond hair.

“Uh, well, I was talking to hyung and I mentioned I… I feel like I have to put up a front sometimes. Because I’m so happy and stuff. Women expect me to be like that… in bed… And he suggested that maybe you could help me… chill out, but, uh, that’s really rude to say, ah, I shouldn’t have–”

He tried to yank his hand out of yours in panic but you held on, tugged forward by his movement. Hoseok squeaked, ears turning red, freezing in place.

“Hey.”

You held his hand and patted it with your free one, smiling gently.

“I absolutely can help you chill out when it comes to sex. What do you want to know? What do you want to do? I’ll teach you.”

You noticed his expression change from panic to worry, chewing on his lip.

“N… No, you misunderstand… It’s not having sex, I…”

He trailed off, suddenly silent. You frowned slightly, nudging him. Hoseok cleared his throat and looked you dead in the eye.

“I’m not nice.”

Now he squeezed your hand tightly, breathing in your scent.

“Or rather, I don’t want to be nice when I fuck. Sometimes I want to let go and just…” He frowned, not seeming to know the word.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear.

“Fuck?”

“Yeah, I just… don’t want to think about an image I have to uphold.”

You grinned. “Yoongi did direct you to the right woman.”

His blond hair was even lighter now, the tips dyed with navy, a soft, sexy contrast to his rich tan skin. This was now many, many fucks later, hooking up at parties, at random times at his apartment, and now at the space he rented to practice dance on his own. Hoseok liked to freestyle and feel the music. When he fucked, he liked to feel the moment.

His hands gripped your breasts and squeezed, sandwiching your nipples between his index and middle finger, tugging hard.

You gasped in his hands, just what he wanted, open-mouthed smirk and all.

“Hoseok… I have to… ah, ask you something…”

He shoved his hips into your back and you gasped at the thinness of his shorts, rubbing his hardening cock against the top of your ass. A brown orb watched you through the mirror and he was smiling that brilliant, heart-shaped smile, contrasting his forceful touch.

“What do you want to ask?” he chirped cheerfully, pinching your nipples and twisting them.

You moaned, savoring the swift, firm pain followed by the pads of his fingers rubbing the tips of your nipples, grinding your ass onto his stiff length. Your phone was in your right hand. You bit your lip, seeing him watch you carefully in the mirror. You raised the phone and unlocked it.

“Is this your dick?”

You noticed Hoseok pause and squint. You turned your phone and held at up so he could get a good look. His hands were still on your tits, although he had paused the moment to view the image, blinking rapidly at it.

“When was this taken?” He tilted his head, looking confused.

“The party with the wet t-shirt contest? The–”

“One where Yoongi grabbed Taehyung and told him he was his favorite alien child?”

“Oh? You do remember?”

Hoseok winced, as if the events of the night haunted him. “I remember… not much after that…”

“Oh…” You faltered. “So you wouldn’t remember if you took this picture on my phone, huh?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then… can I see it?”

He grinned. “You have to earn it.”

Earning it could mean anything.

Today, earning it meant cumming at least three times with Hoseok’s fingers before he even let you take off his shorts.

“H-Hoseok…!”

He always smelled so good, so fucking good, orange and musk complemented with the barely-there vanilla sweetness, a scent that always seemed to linger on your skin afterward. His lips were on your neck, leaving small bites, chuckling darkly. One hand on your nipple, the other between your legs, your dress bunched at the waist and your panties at your knees, not letting you take any of it off, forcing you to watch yourself as he wrecked you, teasing your oversensitive clit with his fingertips, slick and slippery, thighs shaking from the second orgasm and coaxing you to the third, sharp throbs of lust causing your eyes to roll back, head falling against his shoulder.

“Hoseok, p-please…”

He had no trouble holding onto you, flexible and strong, and you were grinding your hips down, lost in the feeling, leaking everywhere because he hadn’t actually put his fingers inside you yet, teasing you and teasing you and teasing you, driving you crazy, please put your fingers inside me, please Hoseok, your name murmured gently in your ear, no, not until the third time, and then I’m going to put my cock in you once you’ve shown me how good of a girl you are, and you were going to lose your mind, shivering in continued ecstasy, squirming in his hands, your own reaching back and fisting his hair and white shirt, moans masked by the loud music, so close, so close, your perfume mixing with his, sex and cologne, shivers and heat, teeth on your ear and circles rubbed onto your aching nerves.

Shallow gasps.

Peaking pleasure.

Seeing nothing but black, eyelids fluttering, wanton moans torn from your throat.

The song ended.

Hoseok removed his hand from your nipple and covered your mouth, muffling your scream as you came, taking your air and your sanity, pleasure rocketing up your core, crying out with need for something, anything, inside you, pushing your hips back into his crotch, feeling his cock swell at your bouncing ass, desperate for him.

The music began again.

Now you were on your hands and knees, suddenly released, gasping for breath, legs shaking from the aftershocks.

“Look.”

Turning around, your shaking hands pulling down his shorts hurriedly, still wearing your black dress and panties around your knees, hardly registering the inconvenience, not caring, completely focused on the semi-hard length in front of your face. No time. Hoseok gave you no time, grabbing your face and dragging your open mouth to him, sliding into your lips, his oversized shirt touching your nose, you whimpering at the hotness and tautness of his velvet skin. The fullness invaded your throat, taking your breath away. He buried himself all the way in before yanking his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside with his vest that was shed earlier, far too hot now, looking down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t choke.”

Hand in your hair, pushing you down, not letting you move as he rolled his hips into your face, the head rubbing against the rood of your mouth and your tongue pushing it up to make it tighter for him, taking him deeper, hazy and intoxicated on orange, musk and vanilla. His other hand held your phone up, unlocking it with ease.

Smirk on those lips, heart-shaped and teasing. “So? Is it mine?”

You whined, not wanting him out of your mouth.

“Your choice,” Hoseok chuckled, tone light and unassuming, the edge of danger only visible in those sparkling brown eyes. “Find out or I’ll cum in your mouth and not in that pretty pussy of yours I’m looking at right now.”

Right, because you were bent over, ass facing the mirror, wetness dripping down your inner thighs.

Fuck.

You backed up, growling, glaring at the picture you knew all too well now.

“Well?”

Fine, fine, fine, you were on this fucking Journey to the Dick, and it was starting to feel more like an annoying side mission than the actual main storyline, but, whatever, you reached up and angled Hoseok’s cock slightly, sucking in a breath with him as you looked from phone screen to the delicious real-life specimen. Hm, okay. Similar in length and color. Not in angle though. Shit. And not in width either, barely a hair slimmer and the vein placement was more prominent on Hoseok’s length than this dick.

“Fuck, it’s really fucking close but I don’t think it’s yours.”

“Shit,” Hoseok sighed, turning your phone off and tossing it onto his discarded shirt. “Oh well.”

You narrowed your eyes, pouting. “What kind of react–gah!”

Hoseok pushed you down onto the ground, pushing his shorts down to his knees and pulling out a condom from the pocket, cocking a brow. You sputtered, trying to untangle yourself from the labyrinth of your own clothes, but only managed to kick off your panties before he got the condom rolled down and pushed your legs up, lifting your ass completely off the floor.

“Can’t have this pretty ass on this dirty floor,” he snickered, lifting himself higher, bending you in half, almost on your upper back, nearly uncomfortable, but Hoseok was stronger than he looked, and when he gave you what you needed, you instantly forgot about the discomfort.

“Oooh, fuck, Hoseok!”

He plunged into you, into hot wet tightness, stretching you out easily from the previous wetness, clit throbbing as he smacked his hips down, his balls slapping against your ass, drawing out another moan as his fingers brushed your clit, making you spasm and clench around his cock as he teased the overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, yes, so tight, so wet, so desperate for a cock to fill this hole, aren’t you?” he purred, still so sweet but with such dirty words, so handsome with his blond hair and navy tips, heart-shaped smirk and glittering eyes, and the way he said your name, dainty and serene, slowly thrusting into you, but so hard, he was so hard from being inside you, completely consumed by the physicality of the act and no longer the same man who had been worrying about how you would perceive him.

That seemed ages ago now.

Your hands reached up between your legs, running your fingers through his hair, completely forgetting about the photo of the mysterious dick and focused on the one thrusting between your legs, smiling up at him, those brown eyes and lovely jaw.

“You’re so good, Hoseok, so fucking good to me, fuck, harder, yes, ah…”

Both of you forgot about the music, fucking through the pause between them, hoping that everyone else was too busy with their own choreography to think about the hot gasps and moans exchanged between you and him in the middle of the room, the act reflected in the wall of mirrors, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls, your name and his name in breathless whispers, tight and full and hot and wet and soaring on sky-high pleasure, climbing altitude and running out of oxygen.

“Fuck, gonna cum, fuck–”

“Ah, Hoseok, yes…”

Tip, free-fall, you clamping a hand over Hoseok’s mouth and his hand over yours, screaming into each other’s palms at the intensity and the force of orgasm, smacking your hips together and holding them there, feeling his cock twitch inside you and your shivering walls clamp around him in rough, intense pulses.

It took a moment to disembark from the euphoric high.

“Hah… we should… probably not fuck here…” he gasped, falling a little, cradling your ass so it didn’t directly touch the floor.

“I’d fuck you anywhere, so that’s your fault. You need to be the voice of reason.”

He laughed, rich and infectious, and you grinned, holding his head against your breasts and hugging him tightly.

-

park jimin.

“I hate you.”

“Come on, Jimin.”

"I was supposed to be first!"

"Oh my God, are we going on about this again?!"

"You were supposed to suck MY dick first!"

"Stop being a fucking brat, Park Jimin!"

"No!"

You tackled him and you both fell to the floor, rolling into a mess of giant t-shirts, fierce kisses and your hands in his now red hair, fiery and hot-headed like he was being right now.

"You little–"

"Don't you dare call me little!"

"I was gonna call you a little shithead but if you wanna be a big shithead, that's fine with me!"

He pinned you down and you grabbed his waist with your legs and rammed your crotch into his black shorts, making him gasp in horny pain and crumple into his laundry that you were supposed to help him fold, but instead you were wrestling and he was complaining about not getting his dick sucked.

It was your turn to pin him down with your arms and your thighs, Jimin seeing stars as he struggled to breathe from your lower belly smacking his erection the wrong way.

"Why, ack, why did you run off saying there's a proper order?" he choked out, choking harder as your panty-covered mound sat down on his length and started rubbing up and down, smirking down at him, his red hair flaring out on his cream rug.

"'Cause there is," you replied, calm and cool.

"Order of what? Order of how you fucked us?"

"Nah, I fucked Yoongi first, remember? At that party, ages ago..." you hummed, extending the expanse of your movement, sliding up and down his thighs, his plush lips open and moaning softly, his grip on your large t-shirt tightening. It was actually his, because neither you nor Jimin knew the meaning of keeping your clothes on.

"Yeah, in my car!"

"Eh, you were drunk and playing pool with Taehyung, which, by the way, he mad cheated and you didn't even notice."

"Fuck!"

You weren't sure if that exclamation was related to your teasing or Taehyung cheating, but Jimin removed one of his hands from your shirt and flipped off the wall, in the direction of Taehyung's room.

Ah, so not you.

"Is it age order? But Namjoon isn't the oldest..." Jimin refuted himself, frowning.

"He’s first because he's kind of like the leader of you guys, isn't he? You all end up listening to his reasoning anyway."

Jimin squinted, pouting. "That's just because his tall and smart and has a fatty IQ."

You grinned. "148."

Jimin looked very annoyed that you remembered the exact number.

“I never thought about it, but other than that, it is age order, huh?” you mused, bouncing on his dick.

He shuddered with satisfaction, rolling his hips into you. “Then why would you…?”

You shrugged. “Your names sound good together like that. Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook…”

Jimin added your name last with an amused smirk. You bit your lower lip, cocking an eyebrow and sporting a devious smile, leaning down. Lips to lips, a soft sigh, remembering that night, stumbling out of Jimin’s car and tangled in Yoongi’s touch, still kissing Yoongi with your ass on the hood of the car. Jimin had been annoyed at you then too, how could you fuck him first and not me, Yoongi laughing in that raspy, sexy way of his, because I asked, dumbass, Jimin grabbing your face and kissing you right in front of Yoongi, the older man clicking his tongue and squeezing your ass tighter, unimpressed.

In some ways, that night started off the chain reaction of hey, why not me?

Okay, maybe you did have some frustrations about your dating life and ended up tumbling into their beds for, ahem, emotional support, but in your defense, they were all great when it came to emotional support.

“Sit on my face.”

“That’s not the angle of the dick pic though.”

“Then just take the pic from that position. That’s how it was taken, right?”

Sometimes, Park Jimin was a damn genius.

He was great at eating pussy too.

“Ah, fuuuck, Jimin…”

A little messy at first, humming approvingly at your taste, thrusting his tongue into you and moaning as your muscles closed in on it, your slick nectar painting those beautiful, soft lips, him pressing them to your heat, lewd kisses, tongue swiping up and down.

“Gotta clean you up so you can dirty me up,” he breathed, tracing sensual patterns in between your thighs with his tongue, small nips to make you whine, his hands on your ass, moaning into your pussy as your kiss came into contact with his rigid cock, dripping saliva and licking it back up, gyrating your tongue at the tip and licking off the pre-cum, savoring the taste, strong and almost sweet.

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was frustrated with you.

“Fuck, give it to me.”

His hands on your ass, pushing you down, setting your pussy flush onto his lips, blocking off his airway and moaning hotly, desperate, needy, wanting your noises as you swallowed him, his length swelling in your mouth at the wet encasement, swirling your tongue all around.

You’re so mean. I can’t believe you wouldn’t ask me first, get on your knees, come on, aren’t you sorry?

You weren’t, not even in the slightest bit sorry for fucking Yoongi in his car, but you had enjoyed his little pout and twinge of jealousy, kisses up his muscular thighs, the same thighs you were clutching right now, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear, remembering his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock, the same cock you buried all the way into the back of your throat, blocking your own ability to breathe, suffocating on it as Jimin groaned, coming back up for air, rushing exhale washing over your skin before returning to his work on your clit, rapid, intense licks that shimmered pleasure through your veins.

Jimin made you choke on his dick after the Yoongi incident, but you were the one in control of it now, rutting the head against your throat muscles, feeling it get harder and harder. He always felt so good in your mouth, recalling him saying once, I just really like getting my dick sucked, shut up and stop shaming me, tongue and lips and saliva, remembering how much he liked it when you held the base and focused on the tip, his muffled whines getting more intense and vibrating your core, making sure to pop your lips over the bottom of the head every time you came up and then pressing them tightly as you went back down, doing it all at that fast, suffocating pace that made him stop licking you to throw his head back and moan, loud lust radiating off the walls, not caring about disturbing anyone, too absorbed into your pace to be considerate.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, fuck, you’re so good…”

Jimin was part of the reason you were good.

He really liked getting his dick sucked. Your mouth was one of his favorites and usually readily available.

Win-win.

“Faster, fuck, oh, shit, I’m gonna cum, mmmphf!”

He grabbed your ass and smothering himself with your pussy, body trembling under you as his cock jerked and shot into your throat, your lips closing in, sucking hard to drink his cum, his moans filling your wet hole and tongue all over your clit, furiously licking as you rubbed the twitching head into the roof of your mouth, his hips squirming at the overstimulation, but his violent grip and nails digging into your ass was telling you to do it, telling you he loved it, telling you he needed it, begging you to do what you did best, gulping around the head and then jamming it into your throat, cutting off your air.

He sucked on your clit, hard, whining so loud that you could feel it in his chest and racing heartbeat pressed against your lower belly, almost lifting your lower half with his upper body alone, showing off his strength from dancing. You angled your head, taking as much as you could, nose in his balls, whimpering around his cock and the snap of orgasm making your entire body flinch, leaking all over his face and into his mouth, his nose buried into your pussy, tongue soothing your throbbing clit, wave after intense wave, barely breathing, lightheaded with pleasure, clutching his thighs tightly, naked bodies suddenly dirty, surrounded by clean laundry.

Jimin yanked his head out from between your legs, panting in satisfaction, diving back in to shove his tongue on your quivering hole and scoop out your orgasm, sucking it out to drink it, murmuring your name into your slick juices.

“You taste so fucking good, fuck…”

You came up for air, gasping, tongue lolling out, holding his cock and rubbing the slit against your wet muscle. His stiff length twitched, still hard because of your mouth.

“Take the picture, mmm, yes, did you forget?” Jimin gasped into your pussy.

You fumbled with your phone beside his leg, still reeling from orgasm and Jimin’s continued ministrations, putting it in selfie mode and seeing the lower half of your face, chin shiny with saliva, his cum dripping off your lower lip, his cock in front of your face and naked chest, your breasts pressed into his abs.

You thought about licking off the visible cum, but then you decided against it, snapping the photo with your tongue hovering close to his rock-hard erection.

You knew the composition of the inspirational dick pic now, so you brought it up in a photo editing app, putting the two side by side while wrapping your lips around the head of Jimin’s cock, sucking it leisurely like a lollipop. He didn’t ask you to get off.

Instead, he planted your pussy into his face and suffocated himself with it again.

You studied the two photos. Hm. Firstly, yours was much sexier. No offense to white t-shirt, blue jeans, and black boxer briefs guy, but your glistening cum-covered lips and squashed tits in the background of the cock made the photo eons better than his. Jimin would definitely be asking for yours later. Anyway, back to the picture. Hmm. Jimin’s dick was slightly shorter and straighter, with a warmer skin tone to his purple-red tip, although the head shape was spot on. Was that possible to have a different length but almost identical head shapes? Did dicks work that way? Did Jimin have an equally sexy twin brother or doppelganger somewhere?

Hm, a threesome with basically two Jimins would be hot as hell.

He patted your leg and you climbed off him, sighing as you rolled over and pursed your lips, concluding that his wasn’t the mystery dick. Once again, close, but no dick. Wait. That wasn’t the saying. Eh, whatever.

“Fuck, send me that photo later, I’m gonna jack off to it.”

You laughed, feeling him crawl beside you and roll you onto your stomach, pinning you down with his naked body. “You wanna jack it to your own dick?”

He was rubbing said dick into the crevice of your ass cheeks now, using your saliva was lube. “Fuck yeah I wanna jack it to my own dick with your lips covered with my cum and your titties on my stomach, sounds fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re such a pervert, Jimin.”

“And you aren’t?”

The front door slammed shut. There was a loud yell of your name in deep baritone.

“Aw, hell no, I’m getting it in this pussy first, I got time before he comes to collect,” Jimin growled, reaching into his discarded shorts and ripping open a condom, scrambling off you and rolling it down his still-hard length, grabbing one of your legs.

You shifted to your side, glaring at him. “What am I, taxes?”

The deep voice called your name again, asking where you were.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer though, because Jimin thrust into you and you ended up moaning Kim Taeyang’s name to inform him of your whereabouts, causing Jimin to bend over and fuck you hard and rough.

“I can’t believe you would moan his name like that with my dick inside you,” Jimin growled, looking far too cute to actually be pissed at you. “Gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be sore for him.”

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was firmly fucking you into his floor and making you yelp as Taehyung burst the door open, sighing at the scene.

“Who would have fucking guessed what you two are doing…”

-

kim taehyung.

"You're so fucking stubborn."

"Wow, that's really rude, I don't make comments about your–"

"Shut up, I'm deleting his number."

You narrowed your eyes and frowned, sitting with one leg bent on Kim Taehyung's bed. He was currently in possession of your phone, clicking his tongue and pressing buttons on the screen.

"When someone tells you to leave them alone, you leave them alone," he scolded.

You cowered slightly, eyes shifting. "I was only asking if he was doing anything this weekend... I didn't have any ulterior motives..."

Taehyung squinted. You deliberately avoided his gaze. He sighed, crossing his arms. You were still wearing Jimin's shirt with nothing underneath so, uh, maybe he had good reason to be suspicious.

"You have a virgin kink."

You choked on nothing. "What, no, I don't–"

Taehyung reached over to his desk and put on the thin, gold-framed glasses he kept there. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. You abruptly stopped talking and gawked at him, breathless at the way his dark brown orbs were bordered by gold and his long, black-brown hair, the rest tied back in a small ponytail.

"And a glasses kink."

He took them off and you sucked in a tight breath, grimacing.

"That's why you keep going after these kinds of guys," Taehyung tutted, neatly folding the specs and placing them back on his desk. "And why you bonked Namjoon-hyung so fast, only to realize that he is not, in fact, a virgin."

"W-Well, he's still good..."

"Same reason why you got so excited when–"

"Look," you cut in, chopping the air with your hand, not letting Taehyung finish. His eyebrow seemed permanently raised. "I'm off my bullshit for now, no? I've got a mission–" You pointed to your phone and he held it out of your reach. You scowled and bounced back down into the bed. His eyes weren't following your face, but you ignored it. "–and I'll stop okay?"

Taehyung cocked his other eyebrow.

"Serious. You just deleted all the numbers except you and your friends, right?"

He turned the screen, thumb hovering over a certain number. Him and his friends were listed from one to seven, in order.

His thumb was over number seven.

"Don't," you whined. "Please, Tae."

His brows lowered, serious expression on his handsome face.

Then he smirked, dumping your phone on the bed.

"Silly girl," he drawled, crawling onto the bed, advancing towards you, sultry gaze and enchanting eyes making you forget about your device. "Why would I do that? He likes you so much."

You growled slightly, letting him push you down but not relenting. "That's really fucked up."

"That I wanna hear you say please?"

His hand lifted and cupped your chin, mischievous smile, unable to contain his pride for his little trick, sliding his leg between your thighs, tilting his head.

"Not just any please," he murmured, deep voice silky smooth, dark curled stands brushing against your cheeks he leaned in, hot exhale on your lips. "Your needy please when I threaten to take your precious Jungkookie from you."

You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his knee, tilting his head, highly amused at your narrowed eyes.

"You don't like it?" He was leaning down, feathery kisses on your lips and cheeks. "I know you like it when I tease you." His honey voice was dripping into the fire, turning into fuel that fed the sparks of arousal, your hands coming up to clutch his black shirt, pulling down the center zipper, his deep chuckle in your skin, hand from your chin sliding up to your hair, the other tapping down your front, grazing the thin t-shirt material.

"Don't..." you gasped, his deft touch toying with the hem. “Don't use the others against me. That's not fair...”

“Mmm, yeah?”

Drawing circles on your inner thigh with his nail, nicking the skin.

"You only want to think about me?"

Your phone hummed with a notification. Taehyung chuckled, fingers creeping closer and closer.

"Aw, I wonder who that is? But that's too bad, because you're all mine right now."

You gasped, clutching his open shirt as his fingers slid in, two because you were already wet, shallow breathing and lidded eyes telling him enough, taking your lips with his, pace slow and steady and maddening, spreading your legs with his knees, forcing you to tip your hips up to him in an embarrassing position.

Then again, embarrassment during sex wasn't part of your vocabulary.

You pushed his black shirt down one shoulder and reached in, your fingers snaking to the hem of the white undershirt and stroking his skin, his satisfied exhale hot against your neck, you remembering the way the water drenched the fabric and stuck it to his golden tan skin, playfully flexing his defined chest and biceps, adorable and arousing because Kim Taehyung was both. He separated his digits inside your pussy to create a loud, sharp, wet squelch. You heard him grin, smug at the dirty sound, then begin plunging his fingers in and out, in and out of the tightness, trying to be as noisy as possible. You clenched your core to make him work for it, force him to be rougher with you, his fingers curling in your hair, yanking firmly, lips on your ear.

"See, how can those boys you pick keep up with you, hm? They won't know what to do with your pretty, sexy self," he purred, faster, harder, pushing you to the edge with your heated moan and your hands all over his chest, lifting your hips to meet his touch. "You need us to take care of you, don't you?"

Fuck, the way Taehyung said your name.

Like it was a decadent sweet he was craving, a taste compared to no other.

Your head fell back into the pillows, breathing in his warm scent in shallow puffs, his name pouring out of your lips, yearning and desire.

"Mmmm, Taehyung...."

Melting you into it, sweet bliss and sharp jerks of your hips into his hand, gasping at the flood of euphoria, trying to squeeze your thighs around his hand and stopped by his open legs. Your throbbing pussy gripped his fingers and made him hiss, his devious smirk growing as you lowered your chin again to look into those dark eyes, shivering under his intense gaze.

“Let’s play a little game.”

His tongue slid out, lickings your lips lightly.

“It’s called, how many fingers can I stuff in you before you’re begging for my dick?”

“What kind of – oh, f-fuck!”

One more.

Aching tightness, clenching your jaw, trembling at the ease of it, Taehyung cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, yeah, three’s too easy, huh? You already warmed up.”

One more.

“Fuck, Tae, fuck!”

His dark eyes glittering, pleased at your reaction.

“That’s better. That’s what I wanna hear.”

Whines in your throat as he picked up the pace, fast and hard, clutching his shirt and his side, your nails digging in, stretched out and stuffed with four, your eyes rolling back and one leg sliding up to hook around his waist, meeting each thrust, so deep, so full, so wet, loud and obvious and uncaring of who was listening – probably Jimin with a huge smirk on his face – panting Taehyung’s name over and over, feeling the strength in his hold and his grip in your hair, pulling lightly, shooting pricks of pain down your head to meet the oppressive pleasure brimming in your core, closer, closer.

“What do you want?” Taehyung growled, that deep voice dangerously low.

“Y-Your c-cock, p-please…” you managed to gasp out, chasing it, chasing the fullness and the depth.

“Can you take it? Can you take it like the good girl you are?”

“A-Ah, yes, please Tae, want it,” you moaned, your fingernails digging into his back, scratching down as your orgasm shattered through you, making your whole body shake and shiver from the intensity, him pulling out. Your moan turned into a hoarse whimper, squirming as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, spanking it and teasing it, rocketing you into peaks and valleys of cut-off ecstasy that drove you insane, clawing at his clothes, desperate for his body on yours.

“What’s your magic word?”

“Please.”

He grinned at you despaired tone.

“That’s it.”

It took no time at all, your shirt flung aside, Taehyung losing his clothes that were already half-off, hot body to hot body, heated kisses and rummaging in his nightstand drawer, groaning into his mouth as his cock slapped your thigh, hard and thick and ready, dripping pre-cum on you before he yanked you up on top of him, ripping open the condom.

“Work for it.”

Lacing your fingers in his, sliding down onto that impressive girth and gasping as it twitched inside you, rolling your hips down onto it, better than his fingers, bouncing on it with your tits following your rhythm, squeezing his hands. Taehyung liked this kind of intimacy, the kind where he was grinning like the devil under you but still holding your hands as you railed yourself with his dick, rough and hard with your own smug smile, a little erratic but somehow good that way.

He made you work for it and you were good at working for it.

You found a good rhythm and – ba dum tss – rode it, leaning forward to deepen the angle and make it last longer, pulsing around his length with your tight walls, control and power and endorphins, each smack adding to the lewd melody that mixed with heavy moans and shuddering gasps, bringing Taehyung on your rollercoaster, his hips rising, your name rumbling in his chest, blood thudding in your ears at the baritone depth.

“Yes, such a good girl, gonna make me cum, don’t you want me to cum for you?” he panted, fishing for the magic word, bouncing one of his dark brows, his long hair flared out on his pillows, high cheekbones and strong features no longer hidden by wayward strands.

Your tongue between your teeth, grinning wide.

“Yes, please.”

The right inflection of winded want, maybe a little mischievous, but Taehyung liked that, for there was no fun in someone who was too easy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.”

He squeezed your hands and thrust his hips up fiercely, shock bolting from your core to your spine to your head, your head snapping back, gasp torn from your throat, flooding his crotch with your juices, overstimulated clit rubbing on the base of his cock and Taehyung was gone too, husky groan falling from his lips, slamming his hips up and locking his legs, shooting jerks of cum into the condom, aftershocks causing you to lose hold on your knees, moan pitching higher as you slipped down on his throbbing length, trapped on it because Taehyung wasn’t going to lower you until he was done, the head pulsing inside you, squeezed out by your shivering walls.

“T… Tae… the picture…”

“Ah… yeah… hold on… lay down for me…”

He wasn’t going to let you leave without his mark anyway.

“Serious?”

“Deadly.”

You laid back against the pillows, spent, holding your phone, Taehyung straddling your chest and stroking his slick cock, plops of cum and lube falling onto your chest, messy dark hair curling around his handsome face. You could see the purple-red head peek out from between his fingers, hear the steady slapping as he pumped it back to full hardness.

“Alright, let’s see.”

Your chest was rattling but you raised your phone, bringing up the picture as Taehyung gripped the base of his cock, lifting it up slightly to put it in position. You squinted at the screen, looking from the photo dick to the real one. Of course. He was definitely bigger, a little thicker, but strangely, the color was almost the same. Was that lightning or similar skin tone? Or perhaps men with really nice dicks just happened to have Taehyung’s tan complexion?

You wouldn’t question it if it was true.

“You’re bigger,” you sighed, tossing your phone aside.

Taehyung smirked proudly. “What a surprise.”

“We all knew that, even before I saw it.”

He chuckled, going back to fisting his cock. “That’s because Jimin has a big mouth and likes to spread rumors.”

“You like that he spends rumors.”

Taehyung shrugged, but his sly expression wouldn’t be hidden even as he shook his head to cover part of his face with his long brown hair, curtaining half of it with darkness, teasing and effortlessly sexy.

“Ready?”

“Mhm, do it.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, smiling wide, watching his breathing shallow and his eyes close, losing himself in it, faster and tighter, the wetness audible, strong thighs shuddering at your sides. Then he sucked in a breath, hissing your name and tipping forward, painting viscous white strings onto your collarbones and tits, pushing his shuddering cock up and down to spread it out, your clavicle now sticky and covered in his strong scent.

Taehyung ticked his head, lips in a devil’s smile, chest heaving with exertion.

“Your cum necklace is extra pretty today. Take a selfie for me so I can jack off to your cute face later.”

-

jeon jungkook.

“Jungkook?”

Jeon Jungkook shrieked your name like you were Michael Myers and he was Jamie Lee Curtis, flinging himself onto his computer monitor and mashing the power button to turn it off, his long purple hair flying everywhere, brown orbs like saucers, entire body shaking so bad that even his eyebrow piercing was vibrating.

He froze like that.

You blinked at him from the doorframe of his rented studio room, one hand on the knob and the other holding up your phone like a kitchen knife.

His leather bomber jacket was hung over the back of his rolling chair. The chair was currently slowly sliding across the floor, away from him and his panic. Jungkook was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and loose black jeans.

For a guy scared shitless, his pants were pitching a very impressive tent.

Had he been watching porn?

“Er… I knocked…?” you said slowly, pointing to the door. “Do you not hear me?”

“Um, uh, n-no,” Jungkook sputtered, looking you up and down. “No, I d-didn’t.”

“I said I was coming by today. Via text?”

“Was that today?” he echoed hollowly like a ghost in a shell, the end of his question pitching to a higher octave. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Ah. Sorry. I think I f… forgot…” He was not looking at your face, instead staring at your thighs and your shorts, tight and tiny, shredded black denim paired with a loose, long-sleeved black top that read in bold, white, graphic, letters...

REALITY SUCKS.

You pointed to the turned-off monitor.

"Were you watching porn?" you asked cheerfully.

Jungkook's ears turned red.

"Yes," he blurted.

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

You nodded, closing the door. You tilted your head and locked it, just in case, before waltzing into Jungkook's film studio space, bouncing on the heels of your large black sneakers. "If you're gonna watch porn, you should lock the door. What were you watching? Is it lesbian porn again? Can I–?"

You reached over to turn the screen back on and Jungkook's tattooed hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from it and to him. You blinked rapidly, confused at his tight grip.

"N-No, you can't see. You can't," he sputtered, pinning you against his hard body.

You frowned, annoyed. "Why not? I like porn." You squirmed against him, but he sandwiched you between his forearms, forcing you to look up and face him, thinning your mouth into a line. He gulped, eyes shifting, holding your body against his. His lower lip trembled, mole underneath bouncing with his uncertainty.

"I... It wasn't porn..."

You stopped struggling, confused. "Huh?"

Those dark chocolate eyes found yours, looking guilty.

"I was looking at your pictures."

You blinked rapidly. "What?"

"You know... the ones I take of you sometimes... You said it was okay..."

Ah, yes. Jungkook liked to take pictures of you. He had mumbled that it was because he needed practice and, later in bed, he admitted it was because he considered you his muse, an inspiration of sorts, so would it be okay if, maybe, you just turned a little and laid in his covers just like... like that, yeah, could he take maybe one photo?

"Sure, knock yourself out, dude."

A bit later, far too late, you had realized that had been maybe too chill of a response, but Jungkook seemed to prefer that and he acted less awkward about it every other time he asked to take a picture. They weren't usually dirty pictures. Although you were naked in some of them, they weren't quite inappropriate, every single one framed with delicate, well-thought-out composition. You always sighed and told him he made you look better than you actually were.

Jungkook always insisted you were consistently beautiful.

You pointed between your bodies.

"Were you gonna get off to them or something?" you cheerily inquired, bumping against his pitched denim tent.

"N-No!"

His ears turned scarlet and he jerked sideways, but you held onto him, hands firmly on his hips, not letting him twist away. He quickly covered his ears and pouted at you.

"I was... I just missed you."

You smiled, squeezing his ass. "I missed you too, Jungkook."

Your tone was soft, gentle. He stilled and lowered his hands, lips parting at your words, slightly surprised, incredibly adorable.

His dick twitched in his pants and jabbed your crotch.

A pause.

Jungkook's eyes shifted to the side, mumbling under his breath. "And, yeah, okay, I got horny, but that's only because it's you..."

"That's great, since I definitely wanted to look at your dick as soon as possible!"

His eyes went wide.

You smiled widely.

Then he said something unexpected.

"Ow."

You looked down and backed up as Jungkook frowned and reached down to shift his rock-hard length in his pants, sighing in relief.

"Zipper was killing me..." he grumbled, running a hand through his purple hair.

"We should just take it off then."

"Pardon, we should wha–ah!"

You grabbed fistfuls of his black top and yanked it up and over his head, causing Jungkook to sputter in confusion, throwing his hands up as you unsheathed his muscular torso, leaning in, breathing on his skin, leaving him to untangle himself as your lips closed onto his dark nipple, tongue teasing the small nub.

"Ah, fuck!"

You lifted your lips, tongue still extended, looking up to see him flinging the shirt aside, his long purple hair messy and wild, tattooed arm and un-inked arm lifting, pushing his hair away from his face, his chest rising to your wet muscle, gasping. You had a clear view of that cute little mole under his lower lip, trembling with pleasure before Jungkook looked down at you, hazy chocolate orbs fanned by black lashes, breathing hard.

You ticked an eyebrow, licking slow circles, lips closing in again, sucking daintily.

He bit his lip and let it slowly tease out while you simultaneously teased him, your name leaving his lips in a low moan. You danced your fingertips up his thigh, nail tracing the seams of his jeans, kissing across his chest, his eyes following you, hips rocking into your touch, following your pace, letting you command it. His head tipped back as you kissed down his abs, whimpering with want, curling his fingers into fists.

Jungkook always made you feel like you were touching him for the first time.

"You're not a virgin?"

"No?" Jungkook had repeated after the first time you had fucked him, sounding confused. "I'm just like this? Is that bad?"

"W... well... no, and now that I think about it, you were suspiciously good..."

"You didn't like it?"

You had turned to look at him and, fuck, the way he looked at you, so cute and innocent, uh oh, and then the slightest hint of an open-mouthed smirk dancing on those shapely pink lips, reminding you of someone else.

"Namjoon-hyung said that's what you were into. Is he wrong?"

Voice so deep and so smooth, gliding over you like butter.

You almost hastily defended yourself but one look into those roguish, yet genuine, chocolate eyes and you couldn't lie.

"But... you should enjoy yourself too..."

Jungkook had grinned, endearing and heart-thuddingly handsome. "I do. I told you, this is how I am. You're just my type."

"And what's that?'"

He had pinned you back onto the bed, leaning in.

"Hot and horny."

Turns out.

Seemed to be a running theme with all eight of you.

Right now, his pants were falling and you were sliding up as your hand was sliding down, shushing him quietly, your other hand dancing up his neck and pulling his head down.

"Someone's gonna hear you," you whispered to his open lips, tone and touch implying you didn't give a shit who was listening, wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock the second he pushed his black boxer briefs down, his shivering moan tickling your cheek. His right hand came up to cradle your head and lean it against his, begging whines for you to move, pairing it with an irresistible, husky hiss of your name.

"Please..."

He liked it tight and he liked it rough, liked the way you could lock your fingers and keep that nearly suffocating pace, closing his eyes with a flutter and moaning into your skin, curtaining you with purple, his grip in your hair tightening as you built that speed, filling the rented studio with his silvery, erotic cries.

"Someone out there is going to think you're watching porn," you teased, nudging him with your nose, looping a finger back to smear the pre-cum over the swollen head. He bucked his hips into your hold, lips pressed to your cheek, intoxicated groan warming your skin.

"Kiss me and breathe into my mouth..."

You couldn't say no, not with his voice so soft and pleading like that, not with that edge of nervousness. Fuck, the way Jungkook succumbed to your kiss, uncontrollable tremors taking over his shoulders, hot taut skin twitching in your palm indicating he was close, and you almost broke away to say that he shouldn't cum like this, it'll be messy and get on the floor, but he grabbed your face and didn't let you go, whimpering in his throat, wordlessly telling you to do it, exhale into his throat and he groaned in his chest, long, drawn-out, consumed by lust, and maybe it was bad, but you loved it, loved the way he wanted it so bad, wanted you to push the air out of his lungs and suffocate his pulsating cock with your grip, pre-cum leaking between your fingers, finally pulling back and gasping, his lashes fluttering helplessly.

"G-Gonna cum, f-fuck!"

You had to think fast, looking down for a moment and feeling his cock jerk in your hand, swiftly switching to cupping the dark red head, thick white cum suddenly spurting your palm, Jungkook burying his face into your hair to muffle his wail, your scalp hot with his released exhale and your hand covered in his heated release.

You breathed in, smirking at the scent of dirty gratification.

"Jungkook..."

He whined softly, hips quivering as you covered his jerking length with your cum-covered hand, spreading it all over and getting him hard again.

"There's this picture..."

"Mmm, yeah, the h-hyungs told me... don't stop..."

You swung your hips from side to side, free hand running down his chest, your eyes roaming his toned body, his tattooed arm still hovering over your head, long fingers tangled in your hair still, squatting down and opening your mouth, tongue dancing out and licking your hand and the side of his purple-red length, wet sloppy kisses, slurping up his cum and moaning on the throbbing head, making sure that he could feel the sinful heat.

"Give me... oooh, fuck, give me your phone..."

Your hand left his abs reluctantly, tugging your phone out of your ass pocket and holding it up for him as your mouth closed around his cock, swallowing it all, eyes closing, cramming all of him until the head hit your inner throat and your lips pressed against his crotch, knees on the tile floor, thighs spread, hands poised in the air, unable to breathe.

Click.

You cracked open one eye to see Jungkook holding your phone above your head, teasing smirk on his shapely lips, mole winking at you.

“For me?” he asked, not quite innocent.

It was the first time Jungkook had taken an actual dirty picture.

You shrugged as if to say, sure, pulling back as he turned the phone around, the dick in question on the screen. You eased off his length, licking it clean, bringing up your wet hand covered in his cum, popping your lips off the engorged tip and sliding your fingers in your wet lips, tongue wriggling between your fingers, inspecting the two dicks. Jungkook was still hard – so hard that his cock was sticking straight out, almost mimicking the photo. You had to crouch a little more, tilting your head and placing your fingertips on his balls, raising his dick a little on the back of your hand, smearing saliva and pre-cum on your skin.

Yon continued to lick, grazing the underside of his length with your tongue and then pulling back, eyes going from the photo to the real thing.

Jungkook moaned above you, clutching your phone tightly, knuckles white under black tattoos.

Hm.

You tilted your head.

One way.

Then the other.

Hmmm?

Hmmmmmmm.

“W… What?” Jungkook stuttered above you.

You pursed your lips at the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over it and sucking off the pre-cum. He gasped, hips shaking, threatening to shove it into your lips.

“It doesn’t look like your dick at all.”

“What?” He sounded startled.

You pointed with your dry hand. “The shape is a little off, you’re longer and slightly bigger, and the color is different.” You sighed, whooshing hot air over his soaked, taut skin, Jungkook whimpering. You squinted slightly.

“Still…”

You tapped your lips with his cock, thinking.

“I think he wears the same underwear brand as you.”

“He does?” Jungkook squeaked, spinning the phone around and blinking at it.

You shrugged. “And for some reason, the position of his hips reminds me of you. I don’t know why…”

He chewed his lower lip, staring at the phone.

“Oh well.”

You stood up abruptly at your words and plucked the phone out of his hand, putting it on his desk.

“If it’s not you, it’s not you. Let’s fuck.”

Jungkook yelped as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began stripping off your clothes.

That was his reaction that one time you lost strip poker to Kim Seokjin and him at that one party, not that your cared because you didn’t bother learning the rules. You had other priorities and they involved getting mostly naked and then pinning Seokjin down to make out with him as Jungkook gawked at the other side of the table, half-clothed, clutching his cards.

“I can… go…?” he had sputtered.

You surfaced from Seokjin’s plush lips, his hands around your bare waist, the taller man gasping for air, reeling from your kiss.

“I still have one more piece of clothing to go, Jungkook.”

Side of your lower lip between your teeth, cocking an eyebrow, swaying your panty-covered ass at those huge brown eyes.

“You can help, you know.”

Fun night.

His eyes were huge now too, your back against the wall and him rolling the condom down, lifting your leg and sliding into you, gasping at your tightness, leaning down to kiss you again, greedy and ravenous, his hips jerking upwards, forcing you on tiptoe. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into that soft skin and strong muscle.

“F-Fuck me, Jungkook, mmm, fuck, yes…”

You didn’t really get to talk during that strip poker night because your mouth was full of Seokjin’s dick as Jungkook’s pounded you from behind, but it would be a crime to complain about such things.

You met your hips to his to deepen his thrust, enjoying his strength, powerful and steady, fucking you against the wall, wet slaps and soft moans filling the room between harsh kisses, lips swelling from the fervor, your ass even rhythmically smacking into the wall, but neither of you cared, your leg around his slim waist and his right arm wrapped around it, his fingers digging into your thigh, black tattoos and tan skin gleaming from sweat, his other hand clutching a fistful of your ass and ramming your drenched pussy down on his stiff cock, grinning at your soft cry of his name, staring into his eyes and not looking away, spellbound by chocolate orbs framed by wispy strands of purple.

“You always feel so fucking good…”

You pulsed around him, feeding the fire, wanton exhales mixing, dick pic forgotten.

-

“Hah…”

You rolled over, sighing loudly.

“Haaaaaaah…”

“You still fixated on that dick?” a deep, unimpressed voice said next to you.

You frowned and planted your phone with the inspirational dick on your face, praying for it to come to life and choke you.

“I never found out who it was…” you mumbled.

“Well, it is Saturday night. We can go crash a party and maybe you can find that dick!” exclaimed a joyful voice, poking your side. Your phone slid off your face and clattered to the floor. A cheerful hand covered in colorful clay rings waved at you and your gaze shifted to Jung Hoseok and his blond and pink hair. He was too cute and you were unable to help yourself as you looked at him, matching his heart-shaped smile.

“Nah,” you tutted. “If it’s not one of you guys… the dick isn’t worth it.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, long and with longing.

“If it makes you feel better, we don’t know who it is either.”

You laughed hearing Kim Namjoon’s deep, serious voice. “How would you guys find out?”

“I know a lot of things,” Park Jimin’s angelic, light voice chirped.

“Too many things,” Kim Taehyung’s baritone voice remarked coolly.

“Are you gonna eat that slice of pizza, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hyung, I am, no, stop–”

“Give Seokjinnie-hyung a bite!”

“Over my dead body!”

“Then you’re dead to me, boy! Respect your elders!”

You heard some slapping and flailing about, but didn’t open your eyes.

“He’s probably not a virgin anyway. Virgins don’t snap pics like that on strangers’ phones.”

You cracked an eye open and narrowed it at the form laying on the ground beside you. Min Yoongi was messing with his phone. His head was on a huge pillow that he wasn’t sharing. He seemed to notice your glare and turned his head to raise a lazy eyebrow at you, cat-like eyes shrouded by black hair.

“Isn’t that what you’re into?” he taunted.

Your eye twitched.

You growled, sitting up. “I’m not into virgins, damnnit! I just like listening to people who are knowledgeable about their interests, like how Namjoon goes on about human philosophy, and how Seokjin never shuts up about MapleStory, and like how you talk about music theory. Just because I don’t understand right away doesn’t mean I don’t try,” you snapped, prodding Yoongi’s firm pecs through his t-shirt. He didn’t move, completely unbothered as you continued your tirade. “I don’t know anything about TikTok, but I like listening to Hoseok talk about the latest dance and fashion trends. Jimin’s the only reason I don’t make an ass of myself at parties because he knows everything about everyone so I don’t accidentally sit in a taken person’s lap and cause trouble. Taehyung’s always following that animal rescue Instagram and giving me cool facts about all these different creatures. Jungkook can go on for hours about cameras. I still don’t think I even know how to work the aperture function on DSLRs, but as long as he will continue to explain, I’ll listen.”

You sucked in a deep breath and seethed.

“So what’s the difference?”

“What?” you scowled.

Yoongi shrugged casually.

“Why do you keep chasing dorks with glasses struggling to get stupid graduate degrees when the people you spend the most time with are here with you right now, ready to fuck you at any time?”

“That’s–”

Your words died in your throat, Yoongi’s words finally sinking in.

Silence.

“Hyung, I’m struggling to get a grad degree…” Namjoon cut in, but the black-haired man on the floor lifted a finger and sliced the air, quieting him instantly. Yoongi was watching you carefully, head tilting at your frozen state. Your brain seemed to have ceased function. His lips curved into a slow, open-mouthed smirk.

Yoongi dropped the bomb on you.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit suspicious that the dick had elements from all of ours, but never quite matched up?”

W… What?

Your head whipped to your fallen phone and you scrambled with it, bringing up the dick pic again. The photo showed up at the party with the wet t-shirt contest. Your phone has disappeared for two hours during said party. Everyone was drunk. No. Everyone had gotten drunk after your phone had mysteriously been found and returned to you. You spent the night in various laps doing various naughty things, not bothering to check your phone after retrieving it, leaving it as a later you problem. You filed through your memories, recalling their faces as you showed each and every one of them the photo.

Hold on.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, almost as if…”

They weren’t as weirded out as one might be, seeing some random dick on your phone.

As if…

“As if one of us is good at photo manipulation, perhaps,” Yoongi purred.

As if they had expected to see such a photo.

Click.

You whipped your head to the left and a whirlwind of dark purple hair went flying under the coffee table, hiding behind broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and full lips forming an ‘o’. At the same time, the realization hit you like a falling piano from the sky.

“Did you all…” you choked, mechanically jerking from face to face, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and lastly, back at Seokjin because Jungkook was cowering behind him, large brown doe eyes behind a massive shoulder. “D-Did you all…?”

No way.

“Did you all take a dick pic and Photoshop them together into one superdick photo and PLANT IT ON MY PHONE?!”

One look at those seven faces and…

YUP.

Taehyung laughed, loud and rich, nudging Namjoon with his elbow. “Told you she wouldn’t check the details of the photo and realize it was from an outside source.”

You started and swiped around. The file name was close enough to your camera photos’ file names, but upon closer inspection…

“Oh my God…”

“She’s very easily distracted by dick,” Hoseok chuckled, infectious grin on his face.

“I am not!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jimin, do not whip out your dick.”

You heard your name being called softly and looked up, clutching your phone, still stunned and flabbergasted that you had been lusting after a fake dick that was a fuckin’ Megazord of the seven dicks currently surrounding you and those seven were the very dicks that tricked you!

On purpose!

For what?

FOR FUN!

(GG, no re)

They got you good.

Your irritation immediately dissipated when your eyes found those anxious chocolate ones, long purple strands curling around his cheek, curious open mouth with the small mole underneath barely visible.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked quietly, pink lips curving into an irresistible pout.

Oh.

Shit.

Before you could quickly say, no, of course not, Jungkook, it was funny, I’m not mad at all, you felt a dark presence by your shoulder, raspy chuckle by your ear, sending shivers down your spine, whispering your name, devious and smokey.

“Whose idea do you think it was?” Yoongi murmured.

You stared into chocolate eyes.

Innocent.

Or…?

Jungkook’s pout disappeared.

His dark eyebrow cocked, mischievous smirk gracing those irresistible lips. No, not just him. Lowered lids and midnight blue hair, smug expression with a dimple. Kim Namjoon. Lifted chin, looking down at you with a sheepish yet wicked smile on full lips. Kim Seokjin. The black head of hair leaning his chin on your shoulder, laugh like a seductive purr. Min Yoongi. Tilted head balanced on long fingers decorated with colorful rings and bracelets, sly heart-shaped smile. Jung Hoseok. Shit-eating grin fanned by red hair, bouncing a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Park Jimin. Long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, spare strands framing a moody, handsome face with a glint of playful cunning. Kim Taehyung.

And then, Jeon Jungkook.

“The hyungs thought it was a great idea,” he drawled, silvery and sweet, looking extremely pleased with himself, running his tattooed hand through his purple hair, unquestionably guilty, but despairingly angelic in appearance.

These fucking…. Seven Kings of Duality!

You were positively fuming.

Silence.

An owl hooted outside the window.

“YOU PUNKS!”

You threw yourself over the coffee table and horny chaos ensued.

-

2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble 2021.10.02 - Namjoon birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[birdnamedenza]

„I need you to pull over!“

@sicktember

This was actually the very first story I wrote for Sicktember. For some reason, I hadn't ventured into carsickness territory before, even though I'm in love with the whole "Pull over!" trope. The urgency of the request and the instant turmoil it creates for everyone involved is just one of a kind. By the way, I have no idea why bickering friend groups are such a favorite of mine. It would mean infinite stress for me in real life, but it's such an entertaining and interesting dynamic in fiction.

TW: Vomiting, alcohol

All it took to ruin the day was one wrong turn. The fact that they were having a blast at the cinema only hours ago – completely forgotten. Their drinking games and mindless laughter at the club – a thing of the past. Now the atmosphere in the car was so dense it could be cut with a knife. Good thing no one seemed to have a knife at hand, they might have been tempted to use it.

Luka – the one at the wheel – was sporting a particulary grouchy pout, eyebrows knitted closely. Every now and then, he let out a grumbling noise to make sure all passengers were aware that he was in the worst of moods. Thien had been fallen asleep for a while, but after giving himself away with a rumbling snore, Tiago had woken him up via elbow in the ribs. After some bantering, it had now become quiet again on the backseats. Tiago stared into the pitch black night behind the window with a grim expression while Thien kept on tapping his foot.

This constant rhythm of impatience felt like a hammer drill deep inside of Isaiah’s bowels. He was stuck in the front seat, desperately trying to fall asleep ever since the heated argument had subsided.

„Why don’t you get a navigator when you’re too dumb to read street signs?“, Tiago had shouted once he realized they had missed the junction to the freeway and were now stuck on the long, winding mountain road.

„Why didn’t you warn me, huh?“ Luka had been pissed ever since they drew lots for the designated driver and his name had shown up. He had subtely accused Thien of cheating, then resigned to his fate, but not without the occasional passive-aggressive jibe. „Oh wait, it’s because none of you guys can hold your liquor.“

„Come on, you’re still not over staying sober for once?“, Thien had fueled the fire.

„You’re the ones who can’t stop bitching about this little detour.“

„Little detour?“ Tiago spat out his words. „We’re going to arrive an hour later, minimum. Maybe two, if you keep on crawling at such a snail’s pace. Can’t you just turn around?“

„Wow, I had no idea your brain was that fried. Like, do you have eyes or what? The road barely fits two cars, only way I can turn is by going down the hillside, if his lordship preferred so.“

Everyone had insulted each other for a while until they had finally resigned to annoyed silence. But still, Isaiah couldn’t get the rest his body craved. Every turn and twist of the narrow road caused a riot in his belly. His stomach had become a washing machine, sloshing around the mixture of drinks and popcorn and cheesy nachos he had consumed this evening.

It didn’t help that the night blocked out most of the outside view, depriving him of something he could focus on. Isaiah‘s pale reflection was staring back from the window, the sickly white skin causing his countless freckles to stand out even more. He had his middle-length red hair pulled back into a ponytail which tucked at his scalp, only adding to the headache. Maybe he should untie it, but then again, it would at least protect his hair from being coated in chunks if he actually had to hurl. Which he planned to avoid at all costs.

„Mom won’t let me borrow the car for at least two weeks if I’m late“, Tiago growled, apparently bugged by the lack of conversation – an argument seemed to be better than boredom.

„Because it’s my fault you still live with your parents. At 23.“ A new surge of anger caused Luka to take the next hairpin bend much more abruptly. Isaiah‘s stomach leaped up to his throat, forcing out a gag he tried to muffle against his arm. No one else seemed to be under the weather from the alcohol and he didn’t want them to notice. There was a reason they always placed the redhead in the front seat, him being notorious for not holding his booze quite so well.

„And it’s not my fault that none of you assholes has a car yet. You’re depending on mom’s mercy just as much as I do.“

„Why am I an asshole now?“, Thien protested. „You know I’m saving up for a car, but college is a money hungry whore.“

„Plus no one on the entire planet still has a curfew at fuck-ing twen-ty-three“, Luka added with triumphant rage.

„That’s because she’s worried about her car, not about me!“

The increasing volume of the pointless quarrel exascerbated the pounding behind Isaiah’s temples. He wanted to scream at his friends, tell them to shut up, but he was scared something different than words would escape his lips. At least the irate voices drowned out the aggressive gurgling of his stomach. His internal washer had officially entered the spin cycle. He tried to focus on his breath, but it only caused a wet hiccup, accompanied by the sour taste of bile. The hot liquid brought back a hint of nacho cheese, adding more fuel to the nausea fire.

Isaiah’s mouth quickly filled with warm saliva. He frantically tried to swallow it down, but couldn’t keep up with the pace. His palms were sweaty, sticky, just like his back. His face. Something deep inside of his stomach cramped. There was no way he could hold it in for much longer.

„Pull over“, he uttered, trying his best not to drool while he talked. A thick drop fell onto his lap.

„No way“, Luka growled. „We’re already running late, you can take a piss when we’re home.“

Isaiah let out a shuddery breath that turned into a belch, forcing up a mouthful of vomit. His cheeks bulged for a moment, but he was determined enough to swallow it right back. The taste was utterly disgusting, foul and bitter with a subtle note of artificial cheddar. It instantly caused him to gag again.

„You don’t understand. I need you to pull over. Now!“

„He’s about to blow chunks!“, Tiago alerted from the backseat. „Don’t you dare to hurl in my mother’s car!“

„Oh no, please don’t barf, please don’t barf…“ Thien sounded even more anxious than Isaiah felt. He was a sympathetic puker and he couldn’t stand the sounds, let alone the smell that came with the entire process. Isaiah’s body began to tremble. He didn’t want to spoil the car and humiliate himself in front of his friends, but the nausea became overwhelming.

„Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!“ Luka hectically began to look around, causing the car to sway even more. Isaiah doubled over with a sloppy heave.

„Why don’t you just stop the car?“ Thien almost screamed.

„What, right here? The road’s a winding mess, do you want me to park in the bend and cause a collision? Oh, and the mountainside is steep af and it’s right next to the asphalt, there is no place to fucking pull over!“

„There has to be a bag somewhere“, Tiago groaned and immediately started to search. „Hold it in! Do you hear me? You gotta hold it in!“

Isaiah tried. He really did. Too bad his stomach hadn’t received the instruction and kept on churning violently. His muscles contracted and, to his horror, he felt another wave of vomit pushing up his throat. Quickly, his hand flew up to his mouth, trying to contain the flood. His eyes widened in sheer panic as a trickle of his own sick was leaking between his fingers.

„Swallow it down!“, Tiago commanded. „There’s gotta be a viewpoint somewhere, we‘ll be there any minute.“

Even though the thought of forcing down the rancid slush once again was enough to make Isaiah’s body spasm under another retch, he tried to initiate one big gulp. The effect was astounding, just not in the way the redhead had intended. His stomach instantly went into reverse gear and shot up a massive gush of puke, spraying through his fingers like a waterfall. Isaiah moaned in pain and embarrasment before he lurched forward, only held back by the safety belt. He projectile vomited all over the dashboard, coating it in semi-liquid mush and chunks of soggy tortilla chips.

„I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!“ Tiago’s voice had turned into an angry roar with a little bit of a suppressed sob mixed in.

„Give him a break, can’t you see he’s feeling sick?“, Thien bravely jumped to Isaiah‘s defense, even though he had already gagged at least twice himself. He tried to reach around the seat to awkwardly pat his friend‘s back.

„Thanks, I’ve noticed“, Tiago barked. „He knows he’s a lightweight, we all know, why did we even allow him to get so fucking wasted? Goddamn asshole.“

„Oh, shut up, Ti.“ Even Luka spoke up, usually being the only one who found it hilarious when one of his friends tossed their lunch. „You didn’t complain earlier, you just cared about your own luck of the draw.“

Isaiah would have been moved if he wasn’t shaken by another heave. He doubled over as much as he could and brought up a gooey mixture of melted cheese, sour cream and alcohol. It splattered onto his lap, forming a puddle that quickly seeped through the fabric of his pants. The seatbelt pressed uncomfortably against his aching stomach, intensifying the nausea.

„You’re going to clean this up with your bare hands“, Tiago growled. The very idea of it caused Isaiah to retch again. One of his hands was covered in vomit already, he couldn’t handle the thought of being forced to touch the lumpy mess he had just expelled. More off-white gruel swapped over his lips and heavily plopped on his legs.

„Come on, let him get it all out in peace. I’ll clean the car if you stop bitching about it“, Luka offered with a defeated sigh. „By the way, there’s the overlook you were talking about.“

„It’s a little too late now.“

„It’s not“, Thien burped, cupping his mouth with both hands.

„Ah, damn it. I hate all of you.“ Luka finally pulled over. Before they had stopped entirely, Thien scrambled out of the car and immediately started to throw up. All of the gargling and bubbling and gagging he produced caused Isaiah to heave again, spewing strands of bile that burned his sore throat and stubbornly clung to his lips.

„I’m… so sorry“, he mumbled, cheeks flushed, eyes closed. He didn’t want to look at his stomach contents that had soiled the car and himself. With his clean hand, he shakily wiped the puke stains from his face and rubbed it onto his clothes. They were ruined anyways. „I volunteer to be the driver next time.“

„Don’t worry about it“, Luka grinned and pulled up a scrunched up bag of chips from under his seat. „Guess who’s found a barf bag? You know, we still have to get you down this mountain. The only downside is that you and Thien might have to share…“

Isaiah moaned, sinking back into his seat. At least for this one dreadful night, he was determined to never touch alcohol again for the rest of his life.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

I know you've given some Japanese literature recs in the past but do you have any other books you recommend or maybe just personally enjoyed reading?They don't have to be only Japanese authors, really just anything you've enjoyed reading.

I answered a question about favorite books in the past and then took it down a few hours later in a fit of paranoia, haha. The terrifying ordeal of (one's favorite books) being known. But book recommendations or books one enjoys reading are a slightly different matter (lord knows I do NOT enjoy reading or recommend some of my favorite books), so I can give it a go.

Under a cut for length

The Once and Future King by T. H. White. My favorite book and one I will recommend to almost everyone. TOaFK is a collection of four smaller books (with a fifth "sequel", The Book of Merlin, that I think works best as a standalone, as most of the best bits have been retroactively added into the first book anyway) that retell the story of King Arthur from an anarchistic viewpoint as Arthur grows up and struggles to understand the causes of human suffering and warfare. Some portions of the books are beautifully witty and fun while other portions are deeply sentimental and heartbreaking. TOaFK humanizes these legendary, larger than life figures like no other adaptation of Arthur I've ever read before. Despite being very much written as response to WWII, it reads as a response to the human condition, no matter the age. It explains the answer to ending violence and also explains why this is fundamentally impossible in the same breath. A beautiful, brutal book. I am not blind to its faults (its treatment of the female characters, particularly Guinevere, is a bit lackluster, and there are some issues with anti-Scottish sentiments), but I love it to death and think it is very much worth your time.

Tangerine by Edward Bloor. This is a kid's book but one that I think holds up well even into adulthood. Following a visually handicapped boy as he moves to a new, primarily white suburb on the edge of a Black and Hispanic neighborhood and learns to navigate in his new life and new communities, this novel discusses the concepts of things hidden in plain sight that everyone refuses to see.

David Doesn't Get It by Vi Cao. This isn't a mainstream book at all - it's a bound collection of webcomics - but fuck it, I'm going to recommend it anyway. You can read it here on Webtoon as the author adds more comics from her backlog over time. DDGI is a diary/essay webcomic by the fictional character David Nguyen as he talks about his struggles to assimilate with the world, particularly in regards to asexuality, generational trauma and cycles of abuse, and family life as a Vietnamese-American. Along the way, his other family members and loved ones offer their own stories and experiences. I barely cry these days, but DDGI is one of the few things that makes me sob every time. Vi's writing and delivery are transcendentally good, and I'm incredibly grateful that I've been able to talk with her and have her writing as a part of my life. The first few comics can be a bit crass and feel a little outdated, but going in for the long haul is completely worth it imo.

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I am a shameless Dostoevsky fan, and normally I'd recommend The Brothers Karamazov, but there is just... something so charming about The Idiot that I am going to stick it on this list instead. Idiot follows a naive, innocent to the point of foolishness man returning to Russia from a long stay in a Swiss sanatorium whereupon he ends up in a love triangle due to his own naive actions. A very interesting look at different flavors of love and how they intersect with pity. In terms of translations... I am not terribly fond of Pevear and Volokhonsky (which I mention because they're usually the easiest to find in bookstores)... although your preferences may certainly differ.

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick. This is pushing the definition of an enjoyable book slightly, but PKD produces some of the best interpretations of psychosis I've ever read (at least, they're similar enough to my experiences and thought processes that I find them compelling), and this is... one of the more straightforward ones, shall we say. Scanner focuses heavily on the concept of paranoia and being watched and does an amazingly accurate job of depicting the "braindead" states of drug-induced (or otherwise) psychosis.

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman. I find Gaiman entertaining almost all of the time, but Anansi Boys is my favorite of his works. It's like if American Gods was funny. Taking place in the same universe as American Gods, actually, Anansi Boys follows two brothers Charlie and Spider as they attempt to deal with the death of their father, the trickster god Anansi, and their sudden reintroduction into each other's lives after an entire lifetime spent apart. Hilariously written.

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. Heller is one of my favorite authors, but I wouldn't usually classify him as an enjoyable read. Catch-22 is, perhaps, an exception to that. Skirting around the reasons why I like it, which are a bit too personal for comfort, Catch-22 describes a ridiculous platoon of soldiers attempting to cope with the ridiculousness of warfare in a way that is generally humorous up until a string of deaths near the last third of the book.

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. God, I love Ishiguro's writing, and I feel like this novel is one of his strongest. It's certainly my favorite to read. Remains tracks an aging British butler on a trip through the English countryside (the scenery descriptions are heavenly) as he recounts the major moments of disappointment and pride in his career; however, readers soon discover he's a rather unreliable narrator and understand that there is a lot more regret below the surface than first appears. Ishiguro is very, very good at writing stories about nostalgic melancholy, failed men, and failed states that once thought themselves great. This one is, I think, the most narratively succinct of all of them.

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones. Man, I love Diana Wynne Jones. I read tons of her stuff as a kid. I'm recommending this one not because it's a favorite, per se (I think I like her Chrestomanci series more), but because it's very well-known and is self-contained in a way many of her things aren't. HMC is quite different from the movie version, but if you liked the scenes of Sophie and Howl bitching at each other, then you will love this. It is a book entirely comprised of bitching. Howl has a car and drives like a fucking maniac. Howl is a wreck. So is Sophie, but in a completely different way. Calcifer is still great. Funny, lovely, lots of delightful background characters, nobody is a sexy anime boy but everyone has a good time.

Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. The writing styles of this book... are a feast. This book is a delightful treat to read. It is a series of 6 slightly interconnected stories that nest within one another, held together by the common thread of a piece of music called The Cloud Atlas String Quartet and the reincarnated soul of a character in the previous story. Each story focuses on a different theme, in a different time period and location, and has a wildly different writing style. Some stories are action-focused while others are slower paced, but I genuinely enjoyed each one and can't recommend this enough.

Watchmen by Alan Moore. I am not a fan of superhero stories at all, so Watchmen, a deconstruction of the superhero genre, is one of the few I enjoy. Set in an America where superheroes were once real and have now been largely outlawed, Watchmen challenges the concepts of authority and heroes as several masked vigilantes rise again to respond to a mysterious threat and their own moral struggles.

The Discworld series by Terry Pratchett. Discworld is a loooong (40+) volume series that can be read in mostly any order, set in the fantasy land of Discworld where anything can happen, provided it is ridiculous. The first Discworld books poke fun at the fantasy genre in general which is... okay... but the series quickly turns into various social commentaries portrayed in such delightful and inspiring ways. I would say that this series is one written with a lot of anger and a lot of hope that our own ridiculous world can become somewhat of a better place if we all take our heads out of our own asses from time to time.

Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. This graphic novel is a coming of age story set in the Iranian Revolution which serves as, imo, a very easily accessible introduction to a topic which shamefully isn't discussed much in my part of the world. Satrapi also talks about her experiences with the cultural divide between Iran and Europe during the 1980s and 1990s. I read this book fairly young (when i was 10 or so) and it has stuck with me ever since.

East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I fucking love EoE. This is a meta (in that the characters are aware of their own roles and discuss their roles within this framework) retelling of the Biblical stories of Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel set in a turn of the 20th century California Central Valley farming community. EoE discusses the concepts of free will, in particular the free will to do acts of good or acts of evil, and the nature of good/evil itself. Can't recommend this enough, regardless if people like Steinbeck's other works or not.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Move Heaven to Make Hell Pay {2}

Title: Move Heaven to Make Hell Pay {2}

Lewis Tan x Tissandra Hudson AU (Alternate Universe)

Warning: Angst, TW: Cancer talk, Plot Heavy

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Coming Soon.

Note: We’ve got a Lewis Tan AU! He isn’t an actor in this one and this one’s genre has a lot of fantasy elements in it. I’ve been reluctant to share this one because it will also incorporate some Asian culture (because I am in love with it like legit obsessed) and I don’t want to offend anyone if I mix and mash things together for my own purposes. I plan to do just that but will remain true to the culture. I’m nervous to share it but I hope you guys enjoy it.

Note II: This chapter has a little mandarin in it. I’ve added a glossary.

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As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Chapter Two: A Twist of Fate

“Uh he-llo!”

You snapped your head in the opposite direction from where you stood with your back turned to the client staring at a sequined jumpsuit.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been calling you for two whole minutes,” the socialite whined.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed down any annoyance her voice caused then replied.

“I apologize, I was looking for a few selections for you and I am sure that this--,”

You hurried back over to the rack where the sequined jumpsuit rested, grabbed it then hurried back to her holding it up for her to assess.

“This is going to be your favorite party item for the season.”

She, Evelyn Rappaport, daughter of Melinda and Sebastian Rappaport one of the most known socialites in the city closely examined the garment with one eyebrow raised. The item wasn’t spectacular, but it was a hot item. It had just got in that morning, and you’d fielded a lot of calls from the city’s best-dressed women demanding that one be placed to the side for them.

“Hmm,” Evelyn began as she tapped her perfectly manicured red nail to her bottom lip painted the same red. A few more seconds passed with her scanning every inch of the garment before she looked at you and a devious look entered her eyes.

“Do I look like a woman who would wear something off the rack? Yes, this looks acceptable but only for the likes of you. My eye can see the flaws in it.”

Clenching your jaw, you swallowed the venom rising. This was still a job you needed.

“Maybe you are okay wearing flawed items,” she began giving your frame a quick once over with her critical eye. “But I require more.”

With that, she turned her back and walked closer to the floor-length mirror to look at the pieced together outfit you’d styled an hour ago. You turned your back, rolled your eyes then placed the jumpsuit back on the rack. All the stylists in the store knew Evelyn Rappaport enjoyed belittling anyone who wasn’t on her level. If your family’s net worth was less than hers, she tormented you relentlessly. So, if you were a service worker why would she spare you?

“Girl,” she addressed knowing damn well that wasn’t your name or title.

Again, you gritted your teeth and approached her with one thought in mind, you needed this job.

“Ms. Rappaport.”

“I’ll take this and six others in the dressing room. Are you sure it was you who put these together this week?”

With dead eyes, you nodded.

“Interesting. I was for sure it was someone more experienced, chicer.”

You balled your fists trying to override the urge to pull back her disgusting extension blonde and grey low light hair. The woman was insufferable.

“I’m pleased you liked the selections this week. I’ll make note of it for next week.”

The look on her face said she was either impressed she hadn’t gotten a rise out of you, or she was confused why she hadn’t. You’d seen plenty of stylists fired because of her antics. She liked to rile everyone up, disrespect them, and when she’d pushed them to their limits where they talked back, they were gone the next day. You’d known many women like her and none of them had ever broken you. She had no idea who she was messing with.

“I want to try on that blazer again, bring it here,” Evelyn ordered.

You nodded then walked back to the dressing room where she’d left her things. You took up the blazer and saw the little pins that had been stuck in the item to secure it to the silk hanger. Your mouth twitched with a smirk and before thinking about it you took up a few of the pins and arranged them throughout the blazer then returned. She had her arms held out as if she expected you to put the thing on her like she was some queen.

“Tissandra, a word please?”

To the right, you saw Sonja Oratuse, your boss and owner of the company, signaling you over.

“Excuse me a moment,” you said, hooking it onto the rack beside the mirror. You knew she would tire of waiting and put it on herself. It was what you were counting on.

You scurried toward Sonja and waited for the shriek you knew would come.

“How are the selections?”

“She likes them and will be taking them.”

Sonja smiled and nodded her approval etched across her face.

“Well done, Tissandra. I knew when I hired you that you would be an asset to the company. I have not had one client dissatisfied with your stylings.

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

Taking a sly glance back you saw the limit of Evelyn’s patience and as she grabbed the blazer, she released an entitled huff then slipped it on. Almost instantly, she shrieked out and the most delicious sense of satisfaction filled you.

“Oh my god!”

You ran back to her with every single ounce of concern laced in your features.

“Ms. Rappaport. Is everything all right?”

Evelyn shrieked again then wiggled but you knew that every move she made would only prompt the pins to attack her more. Sure enough, she continued to shriek.

“There’s—there is something in—aah!”

She tried to shake off the blazer, but it looked to be a struggle. Sonja stepped in and helped her at the same time you did.

“Oh, my goodness,” you said faux shock in your voice. You raised the blazer closer to your face.

“Ms. Rappaport, did you forget to take the pins off of the blazer as I instructed and cautioned?”

Sonja looked at the blazer then sighed.

“Ms. Rappaport it looks like you forgot to,” she added.

“Why must I? It is your job as the clothes girl to take them off!”

Sonja sighed again then pointed to the sign with clear caution words in bolded lettering.

Please Check Clothing For Pins Before Putting Them On

“In order to keep the items in pristine condition to be worthy of your heavenly gaze, we pin them.”

Evelyn looked as if she were ready to pounce. She stepped forward to you with her hand raised and like a premonition you saw the actions she was about to take. You watched her hand lower to your cheek, heard the loud snap as her hand connected with your face, felt the sharp sting against your flesh a product of her hand and the diamond ring she’d intentionally turned around, so the bauble added to your discomfort. You then saw her shove you to the ground before you’d even gotten a chance to react.

It all played out for you in a matter stretched of seconds in a slow-motion reel. At the corner of your eye, an impeccably dressed man in a black suit and a white tie caught your eye. His stance was pure power. You couldn’t see his face because of the grey smoke from the cigar he puffed that hid it, but behind him, you swore you saw a radiating red dragon emblem as if it were shadowing him or shielding him. Then he was gone.

Bringing your attention back in front of you, you saw Evelyn raise her hand as before. A chilling sense of DeJa'Vu washed over you but before you could dwell on it, Evelyn made her move. As she dropped her hand toward your face, you dipped then stepped to the left avoiding her hand. The rest of her actions followed what you’d seen. She moved as if to push you, but because of the suddenness of your movement she hadn’t processed them, and the momentum sent her forward stumbling over her own two feet into the rack of jumpsuits she claimed were flawed.

“Oh my,” Sonja gasped, “Ms. Rappaport there is no need for violence.”

Evelyn turned around rage on her face but before she could do or say anything else laughter rang out around you. Her shrieks had brought an audience and her antics had kept them fully engaged.

“Evelyn?”

Evelyn blanched as she straightened up. “T— Taosaka?”

The tall woman with curly jet-black hair looked surprised but also slightly smug. The two other women she was with looked amused while one held her phone up like she was recording.

“Did I just see correctly? Were you trying to assault yet another person?”

Evelyn looked around then giggled uncomfortably.

“Me? I don’t know what you are talking about. I’ve never assaulted anyone?”

It was a lie. She was most recently in the tabloids for doing just that to her fourth personal assistant and this time this personal assistant filed charges. They were later brushed under the rug though. Everyone suspected she’d been paid off very handsomely. Still, it caused a lot of bad press for the Rappaports.

“I just recorded the whole thing, Evie. It’s a good thing she’s quick on her feet or you’d have more charges. You’re turning into quite the delinquent. I think I’ll hang on to this never know when it’ll come in handy and for whom,” the woman with the phone said as she gave you a sly look as if to imply she’d give you the footage.

The three women snickered as Evelyn turned red again but this time it looked from embarrassment. Serves her right you thought. Evelyn rushed past everyone and ran toward the exit leaving behind the styled outfits and her own clothes she’d worn in. Sonja sighed and pressed her palm to her forehead. Evelyn had caused her quite a few headaches and she knew this was the latest one.

“What a mess,” she said.

“Don’t worry about her. As long as we have this footage, she won’t cause any problems.”

Sonja smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Tsu.”

She dressed like a socialite, talked like a socialite, and looked like one too, but you didn’t recognize her.

“No need to thank me. She’s always been on her high horse thinking she’s God herself thinking her family is better because their money is clean as snow. Little does she know her family is as dirty as they come, hell even dirtier than the devil himself.”

Her eyes flitted to you as she gave you a once over.

“I will say that your style sense is spot on. You could almost not tell that viper was masquerading as a guttersnipe.”

You snorted but immediately stopped yourself.

“Well anytime you’d like an outfit I’m here,” you offered with a kind smile.

“ Taosaka Tsu. I’ll be in touch Sonja.”

She walked away with her team leaving you and Sonja to clean up the mess leftover.

After you’d cleaned up and when all was quiet again you went to one of the desks and typed in Taosaka’s name. Sonja kept a profile of every client. There was usually information on their preferred style, chosen designers, and spending habits listed there and, any other piece of information that would help in styling them. This could be their likes, hobbies, favorites, prized vacation locations, and even preference in men.

Sonja always said you can tell a lot about a woman’s style by the men she’s attracted to. Who a woman chooses to spend their time with said more about her than the people around her. Evelyn had always been seen around with sons of billionaires who had their share of scandals that always revolved around womanizing. You never knew how she could stomach it.

Finding Taosaka’s information, you read through the sparse file. There was information about her style, designers, favorite restaurants, music, and men she paraded on her arm as well as spending habits. The woman loved luxury and loved to burn through cash. Everything in here said she had more money than Evelyn which was interesting because Evelyn was always on her high horse about her wealth. If Taosaka was wealthier what did her family do?

The more you looked the more your curiosity was piqued. There was no information about her family in there or net worth. It was like she just got her wealth from thin air. At the thought of wealth coming from thin air, you thought about yourself. It had been a week since you’d acquired over fifty thousand dollars. A week since you’d tucked away that giftbox on the highest shelf of your closet behind old clothes and shoes so it would be difficult to reach. A week since the knowledge of it had driven you crazy.

You hadn’t used not one crisp hundred note. You’d pretended it wasn’t there even though half of you screamed at you every day to just use it. No one had come to request it back, no one had sent any threatening letters to demand it back or else everything had been quiet. Part of you had accepted it was yours to do with as you chose but the other half was worried that it was some sort of trap though, for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out who would want to trap you or why.

The week you’d been sitting on the money you’d gone about your life as normal. Worked, went to visit your father, ate then slept. Each day you went to see him there was no improvement in his condition. Each night you came home from visiting him you stared at your closet thinking you had the means to help him right there, but you were sitting on it unable to bring yourself to pull the trigger.

At the end of your shift, you decided to go by the hospital to see your father but the minute you stepped onto his floor you saw the scurry of activity and wondered what was happening. Three nurses ran past you making you press your back to the wall to give them maximum space to do their job. Two nurses ran into the room that belonged to your father and that was when your panic began.

As if floating you drifted down the hall and into your father’s room to see three nurses working on him. One was doing CPR, the other held the defibrillator paddles while the third was monitoring the monitors beside his bed. You watched as the nurse in purple pressed the paddles to his chest and his torso lifted off the bed. She did it once, then twice and each time your heart stopped.

“We have a pulse!”

That was when two other nurses came and ushered you out of the room. Though their lips were moving you heard no words just the sound of your heart beating. You sat down on the seat that was right outside of the room and replayed everything that just happened. You’d almost lost him. He was gone, flatlined, deceased but now he was back. You’d been alone in the world for a few short minutes, and you felt like you’d been having an out-of-body experience like this wasn’t your reality and it had nearly given you a mental breakdown.

“Tissandra?”

You looked up, eyes filled with tears into the friendly and handsome face of Dr. Massey.

“Dr. Massey.”

You abruptly stood preparing for the worst. Dr. Massey looked sympathetic and slightly helpless. Without thinking you lunged to him and pressed your face to his chest and wept. It took several moments but Dr. Massey wrapped his arms around you and allowed you a few moments. Your emotions poured from you like water from a faucet.

All your frustrations of the present and past week, the uncertainty of the future, fears, and very real worries flowed out of you. You felt Dr. Massey’s arms tighten around you and his scent overpowered you. something inside of your psyche flared and sent ripples of alarm and trepidation through you as if this lone action was forbidden or some sort of betrayal. That was when you came back to your senses.

Pulling from him you sniffled and used the backs of your hands to dry your tears.

“Em—I’m sorry,” you quietly said.

“No, it’s all right. I understand. We all need someone sometimes.”

You took a breath then looked at him again. Every time you spoke up until now his eyes had been masked, now they seemed clear, and his meaning shone brightly. Was he offering himself as your someone?

Shaking the thought off, you spoke, “How—how is he?”

“We were able to resuscitate him. I’ve checked his vitals; they don’t look to be impacted. He wasn’t down for long. He is now stable.”

“Oh thank god. What happened?”

“Complications. His situation is getting worse. I’ve been trying different things this week to keep the new symptoms at bay but--,” he sighed and dropped his head defeated. “I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”

Again, your tears welled. You tried to keep them at bay by focusing on swallowing the lump in your throat. That was it, you thought. Decision made.

“The clinical trial—is that still an option for him?”

Dr. Massey studied you then nodded slowly.

“Yes, he is still a good candidate, because of the seriousness of his condition the parameters of the trial are actually better suited for him.”

“If we get him in how soon would we start?”

“Within thirty-six hours but preparations begin immediately.”

You took a deep breath then slowly released it.

“Let’s do it. Let’s do the trail,” you declared with all the determination you’d grown up with. You refused to lose your father when you had the means to help him. You’d worry about any consequences later knowing that they would be worth it.

~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Massey wasn’t kidding when he said the preparations would begin immediately. Once you’d returned from your house with the amount of money needed stuffed on your body rather than in your purse because you worried someone would snatch your purse, you paid the fees and did everything to get the process started. Dr. Massey did his part with all the paperwork and communications between the trial leaders and began everything taking the worries from you.

He thoroughly explained the trial and what to expect in very clear and graphic detail. His reasoning he wanted you to know what you were in store for and didn’t want there to be any surprises. He’d said it would be intense for him and he’d take an immediate turn for the better if his system accepted the process. He warned that many patients experienced immediate positive results, then a sharp decline before a balance out. By the time he’d finished explaining everything, you’d been in his office for nearly two hours. You left the hospital with a feeling of newfound hope that perhaps tomorrow would be a better day.

A week later your father was in the middle of the first week of the trial and he was then hooked up to more wires than he had been before. The first sight of him made you waver and wonder if you’d made the wrong decision but after some reassurance from Dr. Massey, you steeled yourself and prepared for the road ahead.

Another week passed and this week brought the eighty-seven thousand dollars you’d used for your father’s clinical trial acceptance and fees back to you. According to the billing department, the fees and costs were taken care of by the hospital’s grant they received every quarter for difficult cases that came from donors to the hospital. You didn’t understand how something like that could be real. It didn’t seem to be a thing two weeks ago but now miraculously the amount had been taken care of. How could you have been that lucky when your entire life thus far had been riddled with misfortune.

That now left you with the full sum that had been left on your stoop. Ninety thousand dollars. That was the week you decided to stick to your guns. You found all the overdue, past due, and collections mail you’d received over the years which totaled well over two hundred thousand and made arrangements to either pay them all off or pay portions. The overdue hospital bills took the majority of the money leaving just enough to keep the gas and electricity on and turn back on the cable.

By the third week of the trial, you’d been informed again that the cost and fees of the next month and the two rounds for that month had been taken care of. When they informed you that all of it would be taken care of moving forward you nearly passed out from the shock. That was when you began to believe maybe your luck had turned around.

-One Month Later-

The sound of your doorbell echoed through the house starling you. From your seat in the living room, you stared out into the hallway that led to it not wanting to get up just yet. After a minute, the bell rang again. Recollection rang through you, and you waited again wondering if the bell would again ring. Slowly, you rose from your seat and walked to the door. You then pressed your back to the wall where the screen was and looked into it. Your stoop was empty but there was another neatly wrapped box sitting there. You brought your eyes closer and closer until there was barely any room between your eyes and the screen. You didn’t want to miss anything.

Long moments passed with the house cloaked in silence and darkness as you used all of your senses to monitor the screen. Nothing was happening. There was no one out there except that large black luxury SUV parked in the same place as the previous time. The doorbell rang again, and you gasped in horror. No one approached the door, no one pressed the bell, no one was on the screen. You grabbed the knob and yanked the door open pretty much jumping on your stoop hoping to see someone. You ran down your steps to look up and down the sidewalk, but no one was in sight.

“What the hell?!”

Your eyes fell on the box on your stoop and Lotus was right there beside it looking at the SUV. Something in you said to walk across to it. You took a few steps toward the street but the moment you stepped into it you stopped as if hitting a wall. There was nothing in front of you. Reaching forward your fingers sliced through the air without restriction but yet you still couldn’t move forward.

“Go back. It isn’t time yet. When it is. I will be there.”

The words were spoken in your head, but the voice wasn’t your own. It wasn’t a voice you’d heard before, but you felt as if you knew it. Intense confusion hit you and you tried to continue to push forward still being met by restriction. Your stubbornness reached peak levels and you did not only try to push forward physically but also mentally. How could you feel like you knew the voice but know you didn’t? You tried to focus on that voice pushing whatever restraint was on your mind.

“Bǎobèi.”

The word echoed in a haunting way that made goosebumps prickle your skin. On the last echo, you saw a pair of eyes, hypnotizing hazel eyes that held secrets, pain, questions, and answers. A loud honk behind you made you jump. When you turned you were blinded by the harsh glare of light. You were caught in bright headlights and a shout to get out of the street. You staggered back to the sidewalk you’d just stepped off of unsure what had just happened. Slowly, you walked up the steps back to the box, gathered it then walked inside. Before closing the door you looked across to the SUV.

“Soon,” the voice hissed again before you closed it.

A few minutes later, you sat before the opened box that was filled with stacks of cash, and you were consumed with the same questions as before.

What the hell was going on?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glossary:

Bǎobèi: Treasure

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[dinosaurtsukki]

dating the armed detective agency’s medic

a/n: of course i have to write one for the ADA even though i’m a biased port mafia bitch. there’s a bit more characters here so i’ll try to keep each one short but still very fluffy and sweet <3

this man is always getting himself injured and even though agency has yosano, fukuzawa thought it would be a good idea to hire another medic who could deal with less life-threatening injuries

ofc dazai flirts with you the first chance he gets and every time he comes into your clinic

dazai: good morning my dear belladonna! the weather is beautiful today, but not as beautiful as you of course

you: YOUR ARM IS BROKEN PLEASE SIT DOWN

although as much as he likes to slightly mess with you, dazai genuinely enjoys coming to the clinic and being treated by someone like you

he likes observing your hands and how careful they are when they bandage his arm or that cute little scrunch of your brows when you’re bandaging his forehead

while on a mission, atsushi and kunikida go the extra length to protect dazai because they know you’re worried about him 

and then one day dazai comes into your clinic again and instantly you think that something has happened

until he surprises you by bringing out a bouquet of flowers

‘if i get injured less on missions, would you let me take you out on a date?’

jokes on you though after you guys date dazai finds every excuse to visit you in the clinic

he’ll get papercuts on purpose just so he can get you to put a bandage on them 

kunikida is annoyed because dazai they’re just papercuts jfc also please go back to work

seeing that you’re always concerned about his health and well-being, dazai finds himself making much less attempts cause he knows the stress it puts on you when you have to bandage him up after and make sure he’s alright

thanks to you our man is able to take care of himself a bit more

even though he is your boyfriend he’s still going to mess with you in any way he can

he’ll barge into your office claiming that his chest hurts because you didn’t give him a kiss that morning

also will highkey hug you from behind even if you’re treating another patient

the first time he meets you is for a physical exam check-up because it was required at the agency and he feels embarrassed at first seeing that the agency’s medic was gorgeous

atsushi was fresh out of the orphanage so of course he was quite malnourished and still had some injuries from his abuse

you had no idea who’d dare hurt such a sweet boy so you do your best to treat him and instructed atsushi to come in for some follow-up check-ups

although when he comes in for that check-up he talks about how he’s been healthy because he eats a lot of chazuke and you’re like ‘oh no, no, no, please eat other things too’

you end up packing him a bento box because he’s your patient so ofc you have to keep him healthy 

the two of you run into each other a lot in the morning because atsushi tends to come in way earlier than he’s supposed to so you often find him sitting in front of the locked door

thus begins your early morning chats. atsushi’s always polite and never interrupts when you talk and you love how he shows so much interest in whatever you say

atsushi began to realize that he has feelings for you but boy is he bad at concealing them also ranpo kind of busted him in front of everyone in the agency including you

but atsushi was saved by you hinting that you wouldn’t mind going on a date with him at all and he’s ecstatic until he realizes he hasn’t been on a date before

he takes you out to a nice restaurant and insists on paying for everything

nothing much changes with your routine but atsushi likes to bring you breakfast in the morning and the two of you have little dates before going into the office

he knows how worried you get when he goes out on especially dangerous missions but he does everything he can to protect the city and the new home he found with the agency and you

this guy was one of the people, other than yosano and fukuzawa, who interviewed you for the job and you can’t forget how intense he was when it came to asking questions

of course, you answered all of them well but kunikida was very serious that you knew how dangerous it could be to be involved with the agency

there was a self-defense portion in the interview that you knew about and of course kunikida was the one who added that

to his pleasant surprise, you managed to dodge all his incoming attacks (kunikida lowkey found it hot, like that’s requirement number ten on his list checked right there)

kunikida does get injured a fair amount during missions and he doesn’t want to get dissected by yosano all the time so he goes to your clinic that’s right near the office

he likes how efficiently you work and how gentle your hands are that even when you’re stitching up his wound he almost can’t feel a thing

however, kunikida does have a bad habit of not resting for the appropriate number of days. like, even with a bullet wound he’ll still hobble over to his desk to finish his paperwork

once, he came down with a terrible case of the flu so of course you sent him home only for kunikida to sneak back into the office when he thought no one was looking

you ended up taking kunikida home but poor guy could barely do anything by himself so you took care of him too

kunikida is definitely the delirious babbling when he’s sick so he ends up talking about his list of traits for an ideal woman and how you filled out a good portion of it

when he wakes up (much more sane) he sees you reading that list on his notebook and he’s like WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING

he handed you the notebook personally before passing out and kunikida can’t live it down

you: well, even if i don’t match all these requirements, would you still be interested in going out?

kunikida: yes... please

everyone can tell that kunikida’s about to go on a date because of how nervous he is the entire day

he knows how tight your schedule can be and how busy he is with with work but he always makes time to have his lunchbreak with you

loves to hear about your day and even has some space in his notebook dedicated to any interesting stories you have

the first time you met him was when he also had his physical check-up which ranpo insisted he didn’t need but fukuzawa made him so he had no choice but to follow

the entire time ranpo’s just like ‘nothing’s wrong with me, see?’ and then you do a simple dental check-up and find that he has like two cavities he didn’t want to tell anyone about it because he’s scared of the dentist *cue ranpo trying to run away and you grabbing him by the poncho*

of course fukuzawa makes him go to the dentist too but ranpo insists that you have to be the one to take him and schedule the appointment and come along

truth be told, you’ve always been pretty attracted to ranpo because you know of his skill as a detective so you were excited to have this day with him

only for you to have to physically restrain ranpo to the dentist’s chair (you even had to call kenji to help) while his teeth was getting checked

ranpo was squeezing your hand the entire time and he was fairly grumpy after the whole ordeal that he wouldn’t even talk to you until he asked if you could get ice cream

you: the dentist just told you to eat less sweets

ranpo: but i neeeeed them

you: fine, how about frozen yogurt?

after the dentist trip, you know how much of a hard time ranpo has with eating less sweets so you decide to leave fruit on his desk as a healthier alternative but he won’t TOUCH IT

after some bribery on fukuzawa’s part (’i’ll acknowledge you if you eat fruit more and also tell atsushi to give you a piggyback ride every day’) he finally concedes

he actually finds himself liking fruit so in the afternoon he’ll swing by the office just in time for you to be slicing fruit

ranpo gets over the fact that you sent him to the dentist and enjoys his time in the clinic eating fruit with you and sleeping on the cots inside

your clinic is where he hides when he doesn’t want to do work and when he pouts and asks you to say that he’s sick you can’t help but go along with it

he’s also super physically affectionate around you. will literally have his body draped over yours sometimes while you work

people start talking about how you two look good there and one time someone asked if the two of you are dating and ranpo’s like ‘of course we are!’

and you’re surprised self is about to protest when ranpo smirks at you and says ‘why? am i wrong?’

lmao ofc he’s not you’ve been struggling to keep yourself from being a flustered mess around him

he’s still clingy around you but this time he comes into the clinic every few minutes to ask for a kiss

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumu-brainrot​ @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo ​ @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi @amberalisa​

[salemwolfgang]

The Bed

Request: “‘There’s only 1 bed” Hannibal & Will obsessed with a fem reader.”

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham

Warning(s): Smut, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Slight Dom and Sub Tones, Spitting, Blow Jobs, and So So Soooo Much Fluff

A/N: It’s not as long as I originally intended but I’ll add more later when I find what I want to add. Also not entire proofread. I did read through it a few times but there could possibly still be mistakes and I’ll happily fix them later lol.

Two weeks ago, during a conversation with Hannibal, you mentioned how tired and stressed work had made you as of late. That following week he surprisingly  invited you on a trip to a cabin that he owned. He said it was further north and he usually went there a couple times throughout the year. You didn’t want to interrupt his free time but he insisted you go. He even said that ‘It would be a relaxing trip and the scenery was quite spectacular’. 

You mentioned the conversation to Will and he stated that the trip was offered to him as well. But he said that he’d only go if you did as well. The two of you decided to tell Hannibal that both of you would be delighted to go and he happily told you that he planned to leave on the fifteenth. 

The rest of the week was spent planning on what you’d pack, meal options, and any necessities that would be needed. When the day arrived you received a text from Will stating he and Hannibal were on their way to pick you up. Despite the cold that nipped at your skin, you decide to wait on your porch.

On the car ride there you ran through your list of items that you all packed twice, just to be sure that you had everything. You knew you had it all but it gave you something to do since you didn’t bring a book and your phone had no service. Hannibal wasn’t much for conversation and Will read a book that you believed was, The Measures Of Madness, which Hannibal had given to him as a gift last Christmas.

When the three of you arrived you all grabbed your luggage and headed into the cabin. Hannibal started making dinner while Will started a fire. You took everyone’s things to the back and went to put them in their rooms until you noticed that there was only one bedroom. 

“Uhh… Hannibal? Can I ask you something?” You asked as you walked back towards the kitchen.

Hannibal looked up from the carrots he was cutting and said,”Yes (Y/N)?”

“Where are the other beds? I tried looking and this place only seems to have one room…”

“Oh yes I must have forgotten. I’ve always come here alone so I never thought to have a cabin with multiple rooms that I didn’t need.” Something in his tone of voice hinted that he wasn’t telling the truth but you didn’t bother to question his response. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll just sleep on the couch.” You muttered. Not realizing that they had booth heard you.

Will said nothing but came out from the living room and walked to the bedroom. 

“Well, (Y/N), the bed seems big enough for the three of us. Why can’t we just share?” Will’s voice yelled out to you. And before you could say anything he added, “Plus the couch seems quite uncomfortable.”

Hannibal sneakily smiled and looked at you waiting for an answer. When nothing came out he said “Yes, it would be a shame if you couldn’t sleep properly while we were on our vacation. You must sleep with us, it seems to be the best option. At least try it for tonight and if you were to become to uncomfortable with it, you can sleep on the couch.”

After continuous bantering amongst the three of you on where you’d sleep, you finally agreed to sleep in the same bed. The two, grown might I add, men both made a small victory dance and you couldn’t help but giggle at their childish behavior. As the three of you ate you conversed about work, how fast the seasons seemed to change, and all recent news. At some point the topic of your love life was brought up. How exactly it came about was unclear to you but it had happened and there was no way out of it. 

“So are you...” Will cleared his throat and then continued, “interested in anyone?” 

You felt yourself begin to choke on your food at the suddenness of this question. When you managed to calm down your face noticeably heated up making the other two aware of your embarrassment. Neither made any remarks about it and waited patiently for your response.

“Well yes and no, it’s more like I’m interested in… multiple people but I highly doubt they’d care to know. I could never see myself possibly being with them, they’re too good for me. And I could never choose between them.”

Your response seemed to noticeably change something within Hannibal and Will. As you glanced up at them you could notice clear disdain on their faces. You frowned immediately afraid they had become disgusted by you and your lack of choosing between two people.

“Who are they? Is it someone from your work? Or possibly a friend of yours?” Will’s rapid fire questions surprised you. His tone let out that he was not angry at you but at whoever your “crushes” were. 

Hannibal reached out under the table and set a hand on your thigh. The grip he had made your stomach flutter and your cheeks felt warmer. He looked you in the eyes and without hesitating said, “You deserve to be cherished by whoever you desire.”

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Will stared at you with such an intensity you were afraid he’d burst at any moment. Luckily he didn’t and instead mentioned how late it was getting and that it was about time to ready yourselves for bed.

Hannibal released his grip on your thigh and began to collect his dirtied dishes, Will and yourself followed after him. You insisted that Hannibal was given the first shower since he had made the meal and then it was decided Will would go next and you last. 

As you stood within the shower thoughts of what had occurred over dinner began to make their way back into your head. You felt so embarrassed after what had happened. What if they knew of your crushes and were just teasing you? A new thought quickly made itself known and you caught yourself leading into it. It couldn’t really be true; no, there’s no way… but perhaps they liked you back? 

You had no more time to think of it because soon the water ran cold and you had to exit the shower. Quickly you got dressed and did your usual nightly routine afterwards you headed to your… shared bedroom, the thought still made your mind blank. It was too embarrassing to think about.

When you entered the room you were surprised to find Will fast asleep. You stared at him fondly then turned your gaze upon Hannibal. As expected he was laying with a book in his hand and a small glass of wine next to him. Before you walked any further it dawned upon you that the only available space was between the two men.

Pretending as if it did not bring butterflies to your stomach, you slowly crawled in to the surprisingly soft bed. Having no other option but to rest yourself in a slightly curled position against Hannibal’s side.

Without any warning you felt Will’s hands curl around your waist and his legs move up against yours. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact but tried to relax. Hannibal then placed as hand onto of your head and began brushing your hair softly with his fingers. You had no words to describe the unexpected bliss you currently felt at the moment.

Hannibal spoke, his tone soft yet authoritative as he whispered, ”You are to remain and belong to us, only us.”

You felt hot breath against your neck as a shockingly awake Will added on to Hannibal’s words. ”Your silly crushes will have to go away, no one else can have you but us.” He then softly kissed your neck and caressed your side.

Their sudden possessiveness made you blush madly. 

Hannibal closed his book then slid himself down slightly so that his face was next to yours. He reached a hand up and placed it on your cheek and caressed your face softly with his thumb. You held your breathe as he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You couldn’t help but to lean into it and you cupped his face to deepen it as you did. Hannibal took his time to part your lips slightly and move you more towards him.

As Hannibal distracted your upper half, Will began to caress your sides. His hands moved tenderly up and down your thighs and would occasionally dip between them. He let his fingers dance across your clothed area. He only stopped when he reached the edge of your underwear; he would tease you by pulling the fabric up slightly and snaked his hand between your flesh and thin panties. 

Your breath paused a moment and a soft hum left your parted lips when Will rubbed his fingers against your folds. Hannibal pressed himself against you and let out a groan as you pulled him closer. 

“She’s so needy for us.” Will taunted. The comment made you pout a little and Hannibal lips noticeably lifted in response. “Tell us what you want hun, we’ll give it to you, whatever you want just ask.”

You let out a whine at the though of using your words. It was just too embarrassing to truly tell them your desires but reluctantly you did as told. “I… I want you both inside me…” You hesitated before adding a quiet, “Please.”

“Oh so polite for us. What a good girl.” Hannibal whispered to you, more so to Will though. 

You let out a needy whine and pushed your hips both into Will’s hand and Hannibal’s hips.

“Let’s give our good girl what she so desperately wants.”

They both sat up and pulled you along with them. Quickly you undressed with them and then they had you lay your back against Will. His warm skin against yours caused you to sigh at the feeling. You almost became unaware of his length pressed against your back until you felt the tip’s precum wet your back slightly. The reminder had you drifting to thoughts of what it’d feel like to have it finally inside of you. 

Admits your distraction Hannibal had begun to crawl closer to the two of you. He brought you back to them by placing his hands onto your now bare thighs; drifting them upwards then spreading them. Once they spread he moved in closer.

Moving up he went past you and made his way to Will. He glanced down at your curious self and then moved to Will’s ear. He then began whispering low enough that you could not hear a single word and before you could even think of something to ask. Hannibal lifted his hands and grabbed a hold of Will’s jaw and roughly laid a kiss onto his lips.

Their tongues were pushed against one another and at some points a tongue would drift into one of their mouths. Will both visibly and physically showed his liking for the kiss by pushing into it and growing harder. He then let out a deep moan that caused his chest to vibrated against your back.

You could feel yourself become even more aroused and the wetness between your legs became more noticeable. You thought about reaching one of your hands down between your legs to pleasure yourself at the sight but found that Hannibal had beat you to it. One hand stayed on Will while the other made its way between your legs. He moved his fingers between your delicate folds, coating his fingers in your slickness. You loudly moaned at the contact and lifted your hips to give him more access.

When Hannibal deemed his fingers wet enough he slipped one within you and began thrusting it in and out before attempting to slowly work you up to two fingers. Your moans increased once he added a second and at that he curled his fingers slightly hitting a spot that had you’re hips pushing down on his hand for more. He then added in a third; at this point you were writhing beneath him, the warmth within your stomach quickly building. 

Just when you thought he was going to start bringing you to your climax he stopped and pulled them out. You let out a dissatisfied whine and opened your eyes to look up at him. A muffled chuckle could be heard from above and then Hannibal pull away from Will. He made his way back down to you before, in what could only be described as purring out, “Are you ready for your reward now songbird?”

You looked past Hannibal and up at Will in an almost questioning way. He nodded his head slightly as if he had known what you were asking when you yourself didn’t know. But at his sign of approval you looked back at Hannibal and  quickly nodded your head. 

At your sign of consent, Hannibal grabbed ahold of his length and made his way to your entrance. Before he put it in though he coated his head in your wetness and spit down onto your entrance. It was something you hadn’t expected but had you gasping out at the feeling. Once we deemed that he was lubricated enough, he pushed himself in.

Will ran his fingers within your hair and moved you up to kiss him; distracting you from any discomfort. His softness greatly balancing out Hannibal’s rough movements. His tongue lapped up any moan you let out and his fingers caressed your sides in a easing way.

At first his pace was slow until Will moved his hand down between your legs and gathered any of the liquids he could before teasingly circling two of his digits your sensitive clit. You cried out into his mouth and felt your legs jolt at the touch. And Hannibal took this as his queue to pick up his pace.

The heat inside you coiled more and more and you could feel yourself getting close. You started to relax your body more and your breathing slowed as well. You took in deep breathes, well as deep as you could with Will’s mouth on your’s, and felt your self give into the release. Your mouth fell open and you felt your body spasm slightly and your arms bent back and grabbed onto Will’s legs.

Hannibal slowly worked himself in and out after noticing the movements and pulsing inside of you. He moaned out as your squeezed around him and seemed to both push him out and suction him more. The contrast and feeling had him closer than he originally thought and as you came down from your high, his had grown nearer and nearer.

It was at this moment when he pulled out and began stroking himself at your entrance. His hand increase its speed and you watch as one of his hands spread your legs giving him more access. With a final groan he came onto you and ropes of cum leaked down your crevices.

As the two of you laid there breathing heavily you began to wonder what you’d do about Will. He was still hard against you and you could tell that you were to sensitive to go for a round two yet. Then an idea popped into your head that had you smiling coyly and caused you to slowly turn your body so you were now laying on him.

You leaned in and kissed him gently before you started to litter kisses all along his body. As you moved lower you would tenderly nip at his skin each caress of your teeth on his skin had him moaning quietly. Once you reached your desired destination you looked up at him from under your lashes. Eyes observing his every move to see if he was uncomfortable at all with this.

Seeing no signs of discomfort, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip. Then you swirled your tongue around it, letting your saliva pool around him and drip down his shaft. Will set one of his hands on your head and braided his fingers into your hair. You allowed him to guide you down and you bob your head on him.

You felt movement behind you but didn’t think anything of it until a mouth connected to your now sensitive sex. Hannibal’s seemingly tongue mocked your motions and lapped up any of the mixed liquids he found. You surprisingly felt no discomfort from the delicate touches and even found yourself pushing down onto his face. Though for a moment you hesitated, thinking that’d you’d crush him if any further pressure was applied, but hands wrapped around your hips and pushed your down more.

Your moans sent vibrations through your mouth and onto Will’s cock. Eventually leading to an even louder response from the man above. He praised you when he wasn’t practically crying out. The praises were nothing wild but they were enough to make you feel light headed and adored. Your favorite phrase that he had muttered was most likely, “Holy fuck princess, you look and feel so good with your mouth around me. Just like the good girl you are.”

After a few minutes you noticed that he had begun to move your head faster and his hips began to lift, which you assumed was his attempt to get in deeper. You ended up gagging a few times and found yourself drooling, what felt like,  pools around him. Then suddenly the movements became sloppier and less controlled. At some point you gave up all control to him and instead focused on moving your hips more to get more pleasure out of Hannibal’s mouth.

You felt the familiar warmth inside your stomach coil and twist about and right as that feeling made itself known Will came hard inside your mouth. To your surprise, you ended up swallowing every ounce, not letting a single drop spill. And as you did so, your second orgasm ran through your body. Your muscles shook a little at another rush of euphoria.

Slowly you removed your sore jaw off of Will and pulled your hips up and off of Hannibal’s face. Strings of saliva stuck you two will for mere seconds before they broke and as you glanced up at Will you noticed his dark red face and giggled at the sight. You had never seen him more embarrassed from something then now. It was, somehow, quite adorable. 

You couldn’t help but reach up and place your hands on his warm cheeks and pull him in for a tender kiss. Something about the way you kissed him felt so sweet and pure, despite the sinful acts you three had committed. And you couldn’t find it in you to pull away. You stayed with your lips on his for a moment or two and then slowly separated. 

After a brief moment of silence and stillness, large hands made their way around you and wrapped themselves around your hands. With a seemingly no hesitation, they guided both you and Will back onto the bed. As you had moved down, you removed your hands from Will’s face and instead placed them around his arms and on his back.  

You pulled him closer to Hannibal and yourself and rested your head next to his chest. Your legs tangled with Hannibal’s and one of his hands reached out to set on Will. You had thought a bit about how natural all of this had seemed. It was quite odd that none of you had spoken yet but you said nothing about it.

And as your eyes slowly shut you whispered out a barely audible, “Goodnight.” and fell asleep before you could hear them mutter the same word.  

[absolutepokemontrash]

You don't need to write this if you dont want too because it's up to you but this is something wholsome

WHAT IF L!MC M!M & BBY A!MC BECOME BABIES AND THERE EVEONES HAS TO CARE FOR THEM,

I apologize for having such horrible writing and grammer. I never payed attention in school, nor could I afford to pay attention 👉😎👉

Bro I feel you on the not paying attention in school thing. Fear not, dearest asker, ask for demon babies, and since I am a merciful writer, you shall receive.

Oh Shit, Half-Demon Babies are Running Amok Send Diapers and Help-

Mini summary for the casual reader, L!MC is Lucifer’s half demon child who got summoned into the Devildom to be one of the human exchange students, M!MC is Mammon’s half demon kid, and A!MC is Asmo’s. Let’s get to the fic!

Ah, what a relaxing day... Lucifer was sitting back in his desk chair, enjoying a nice glass of Demonus and listening to one of his favourite cursed vinyls. He had done a damn good job on his work earlier and Diavolo had insisted there was no more work to be done and he could have the weekend all to himself.

Of course, his brothers were still a factor that could have ruined his me-time... on any other weekend! Satan had just gotten a new encyclopedia to read, so he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Beel and Belphie were going to take that Devildom food tour, Mammon and M!MC were planning on spending the entire weekend shopping, Asmo and A!MC were going up to the human world on Saturday and staying until Sunday, and Levi... He got a sudden burst of inspiration for his Animal Crossing Island and most likely wouldn’t be leaving his room for the next month. Lastly, L!MC wouldn’t be causing any problems, his child would probably spend their time with him rambling about musicals or anime they had seen, and Lucifer found their intense interest very adorable.

Ah... peace and quiet...

...

...why did Lucifer hear crying?

There, standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation, was Solomon, holding three screaming babies.

What, and I cannot stress this enough, THE HELL?!

“Ah, Lucifer,” Solomon attempted to wave hello, but needing to continue to bounce one of the babies on his hip kind of hindered the gesture, not that Lucifer wanted a wave at that moment. “I’m sure you have questions.”

After everyone had gathered into the living room, Solomon explained how a spell gone awry had hit L!MC, M!MC, and A!MC with the effect of turning the three into the screaming infants that stood (or... awkwardly sprawled out) in front of them.

On the bright side, the spell only had a timespan of roughly two days, so they wouldn’t be stuck like that forever.

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes (save for the babies, who were still either crying or incoherently babbling) as they processed that information. Lucifer, ever the flawless older brother and leader, stood up and clapped his hands together once.

“Alright then, everyone cancel your weekend plans, we need to deal with this.”

Lucifer’s dearest little brothers all whined in protest, Satan in particular. “They’re not our kids, why do Belphie, Beel, Levi, and I need to cancel our plans?!”

“Satan,” Lucifer said sternly. “You don’t remember this, but it took six people to take care of one of you. The kids may only be half demons but there are three of them. We need all hands on deck. Besides, if you all want someone to blame, blame Solomon.”

Everyone turned and levelled their practically murderous glared at the sorcerer, who suddenly pulled baby A!MC into his lap and began to rock them back and forth.

“I have never felt more unsafe.” Solomon laughed nervously. “But you wouldn’t kill me while I’m holding my not-child would you?”

Asmo stomped over and snatched A!MC away from Solomon. “I can’t believe you- ACK! A!MC! Stop drooling!”

A!MC had a long trail of drool coming out of their mouth which caused Asmo to shriek and hold A!MC at arms length away. “Stop that! That’s gross, A!MC, you know better.”

The adorable baby continued to babble and drool.

Mammon picked up M!MC, who almost immediately stopped crying upon seeing Mammon’s watch, they began making grab hands at it. “Ah, ya want the watch?”

M!MC squealed in delight as Mammon dangled the watch above them, Mammon was delighted that his little brat still had their expensive taste, even as a baby. “Hey, look at me! I’m doin’ pretty good! Suck it, Asmo!”

As Asmo and Mammon bickered, Lucifer took the time to look at L!MC, they pulled at Lucifer’s tie and hummed to themselves. They were mind numbingly cute despite the screeching they were doing earlier. The sight tugged at the cold spot where Lucifer’s heart should have been, he had missed this part of his child’s life... maybe just that weekend he’d get a chance to-

“Solomon where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the shifty bastard trying to make his escape. “You’re staying to help manage this nonsense.”

—————

A!MC may have been an absolute ray of sunshine normally, but as a baby, they definitely lived up to the term demon-spawn.

A!MC would scream, cry and pitch a fit if they didn’t get what they wanted immediately, not that they had any way of articulating what they wanted because they were a god damn baby! Asmo and Solomon were at the point where they were just holding stuff out to A!MC to see if it would make them stop crying.

“Come on butterfly, don’t you like this... antique perfume bottle?” Asmo asked, A!MC took one look at it, then burst into flames and started wailing again. “For the love of my father WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

Now there were two sobbing messes in the room, and one was on fire. Solomon quickly magically took care of A!MC’s little fire problem (the baby was fiiiiiiine, demon babies light themselves on fire all the time!), picked A!MC up, sat down on Asmo’s bed, and snapped his fingers. Tiny balls of light gently floated into the air around the three, Asmo looked up from his pity party upon hearing A!MC stop their crying.

“See, you still like my magic, even as a baby, right A!MC?” Solomon asked, A!MC looked around in silent wonder, trying to reach up and touch the lights.

“Oh Solomon, this almost makes me forgive you for screwing up my weekend plans...” Asmo sighed in relief, he sat next to Solomon and pulled A!MC into his lap. “Not very colourful though, is it? Let me fix that.”

Asmo smiled as his own magic added streaks of colour, it was like their very own private showing of the northern lights. A!MC had on one of those goofy baby smiles that can make even the grumpiest person smile back.

Solomon and Asmo shaped some of the lights into shapes and animals, Asmo let a pink butterfly land on A!MC’s nose, much to their adorable delight.

“And that one’s a bird, and that one’s a giraffe,”

“That’s an alpaca.”

“Sorry, an alpaca with a weirdly long neck, oh! And a sheep!” Asmo looked down at his lap where A!MC sat and tickled their sides. “Everyone likes sheep!”

He then quickly shaped a ball of light into a scorpion and made it scuttle into A!MC’s lap. “But I have to say, scorpions are the best.”

The fifth born sighed in contentment as their sweet little hellspawn continued to watch the magic show. Never in his life did Asmodeus ever think he’d be this happy holding a baby, usually babies were things he thought should be handled with hazmat suits, but not at that moment. His little butterfly truly did have him wrapped around their finger.

“Asmo, hey, Asmo,” Asmo looked over at Solomon, who had a glowing triangle over one of his eyes. “Would you like to join my secret society?”

“Solomon, you are ruining the moment.”

——————

“C’mon kiddo! Eat your damn food!” Mammon once again tried to shove the spoon into his kid’s mouth with the same result as the 50 previous attempts.

“YUCKY!” M!MC shouted and slapped the spoon away.

“Here,” Beel took the spoon from Mammon. “Maybe it’s yucky like they said.”

Beel ate what was on the spoon, then smiled brightly. “You can really taste the mango!”

“See bud..? Beel likes it.” Mammon gestured at Beel, who was eating the entire jar of baby food as Belphie watched in amusement. He was such an asset to the team. “Beel! They need to eat!”

“Fine, let me try.” Belphie grabbed another spoon, and waved it in M!MC’s face. “Here comes the airplane... whoosh... whoosh...”

M!MC didn’t budge, Belphie knitted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, be that way.”

Levi pushed open the door to the kitchen, and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately turned and tried to leave. “Nope! Food isn’t worth getting spit up all over me-”

Mammon lunged forward, grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket and practically yanked him into the kitchen, he slapped a spoon into his hand and smiled. “C’mon, do a favour for your super great big brother!”

The third born looked at M!MC, who defiantly stared back at him, the baby had the upper hand and the little brat knew it. Babies were so much cuter in anime...

Levi nervously stepped forward and held out the spoon like a weapon. “O-okay M-M-M!MC... you need to eat your food... pls... pls eat.”

M!MC said nothing, they only did what most babies did.

...

They spun their head 90 degrees until the back of their head was all Levi could see.

Everyone in the kitchen stood in complete silence, until Mammon jumped a foot in the air and started screaming bloody murder. “MY BABY!”

He dove forward and scooped M!MC up in his arms, the baby, obviously freaked out by the sudden loud noise, had begun to cry.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! Uh... uh...” Mammon looked around frantically. “Hush little baby don’t say a word... papas gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring... and if that diamond ring is brass, butitwon’tbebecauseyouroldmanwouldn’tgetcheatedlikethat-”

M!MC spun their head back to its correct position, but their crying sounds were now several octaves lower... It sounded like if someone put a baby in the Darth Vader mask but without the weird breathing sounds...

Mammon looked to Belphie. “I’m blankin’ on nursery rhymes! Ya hafta know some kid songs!”

Belphie, after being put on the spot, suddenly forgot every single nursery rhyme and lullaby any of his brothers had ever sung to him. Oh! A song popped into his head! He could sing that!

“Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty one-”

“Not that one!” Mammon squeaked, holding M!MC closer to him. M!MC’s voice had returned to normal, the next problem is that they were only speaking in infernal. “Somethin’ else!”

“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” Beel began to sing. “I don’t know why she swallowed that fly... I forgot the rest of the song...”

“Dammit... Leviiiiii!” Mammon wheezed, desperately trying to calm the angrily growling M!MC. “Sing! Sing anything!”

“A-anything?” Only one song came to mind. “Uh um... With the doors of heaven and Hell barred, there is no other but the guard, Master of the Hellish Yard...”

Mammon lit up and nodded like Levi had just offered him a million Grimm. “Aw hell yeah! This song!”

He handed M!MC to Beel and began to dance and sing next to Levi, who had really gotten into the song as well!

“With those sins that you've committed, If you pay you'll be acquitted, and your crimes all permitted,” the two paused for dramatic effect before both belting out the best line in the song.

“ONLY ONES WITH CASH DO WELL, WELL AT LEAST IN HELL!”

As Levi and Mammon continued to sing, M!MC became so entranced by the dance, that they stopped their demonic babbling and just watched the second and third born dance and sing the English cover of an old vocaloid song. Belphie and Beel made brief confused eye contact to make sure the other twin was seeing the same thing.

The duo finished the song and took a bow, Beel lightly tapped M!MC’s chubby baby hands together to make it look like they were clapping. It was enough for Mammon and Levi.

“Thank you, thank you,” Mammon said. “We’ll be here forever, next show ain’t free.”

“We should sing The Tailor on Enbizaka next!”

“Levi! No! That song is like... seven minutes long!”

“Hey, morons,” Belphie stuck his thumb at M!MC. “They still haven’t eaten.”

Mammon’s triumphant expression dropped right to the floor. “Ah fuck...”

——————

“Satan, where’s L!MC-” Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of Satan’s room and his jaw dropped. “WHAT ARE THEY DOING UP THERE?!”

“I can’t get them down!” Satan hissed back.

L!MC. L!MC the BABY. They were on the ceiling. They were sitting upside down on the ceiling like it was an average Friday. Lucifer was too old for this shit...

“L!MC.” Lucifer held out his arms, L!MC squinted at him, that’s when Lucifer remembered L!MC was practically blind without their glasses. “L!MC, it’s your father, come here.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried calling them down like that?!” Satan spat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair.

Lucifer shot a glare at Satan, then Lucifer heard something that nearly made his (lack of) heart stop. Oh no- L!MC was yawning-

L!MC yawned and suddenly detached from the ceiling. Lucifer and Satan both dove forward to catch L!MC, which culminated in one of Satan’s piles of books falling down, but with L!MC safe and sound.

“Damn it.” Satan grumbled as Lucifer shifted to properly hold L!MC. “This is going to take forever to clean...”

“That was clean?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow as L!MC began to fuss slightly.

Satan growled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was clean thank you very much. I knew exactly where everything was.”

The cat that unofficially ruled the House of Lamentation pranced into Satan’s room like it didn’t have a care in the world, it began to bat at one of the loose papers that had been scattered around the floor. Detective Toe Beans, you’re an esteemed detective, and technically RAD’s mascot, stop that!

Satan scooped up the cat and began to put the books back in the pile, when Lucifer noticed a familiar, beat-up old book lying near the bottom of the pile.

“Ah, I remember this book,” Lucifer leaned down and picked it up, showing the cover to L!MC, who didn’t seem very interested and continued petting the fur part of Lucifer’s jacket. “It’s good for a bedtime story, right L!MC?”

Lucifer tucked the book under his arm and turned to leave when Satan practically shot upwards. “If you think you can just take that out of my room, you’re completely delusional.”

“Are you seriously going to whine about getting a bedtime story for L!MC?”

“CAT!” L!MC looked over Lucifer’s shoulder and reached for Detective Toe Beans. “CAT!”

“Yes L!MC, cat.” Lucifer whispered to them, then turned back to Satan. “And if I’m remembering correctly, I used to read this to you. Do you really want to deprive poor L!MC of bedtime stories from me?”

“Pff... deprive...” Satan rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’d be saving them. You were the only one who never did any voices for the characters, I was bored to sleep.”

Satan walked forward and swiped the book from Lucifer. “If anyone’s reading L!MC a bedtime story, it should be me. I’m twice the storyteller you’ll ever be.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Ridiculous. We’ll both read L!MC a story and they can tell us who did best when they get back to normal.”

“Fine by me.”

The three (four if you count Bean) were soon seated on the couch in Lucifer’s room. Lucifer took the first story.

Satan listened along and absentmindedly pet Bean, hearing a story he had heard over and over again had managed to bring back memories of a time where he had significantly less control over his wrath. Every night he’d demand a bedtime story or he’d throw a tantrum unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen.

The eldest was always there to swoop in and read Satan a story whenever the little ball of seething rage looked ready to kill the unfortunate brother who told him it was bedtime.

It had gotten to the point that Satan could recite most of the stories in the book completely by heart. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered the time he matter of factly told Lucifer that he’d be reading him the bedtime story that night and proceeded to pretend to read the story of The Hydra and the Pufferfish. He hadn’t actually learned to read, much to Lucifer’s dismay, Satan just memorized what to say and when to turn the pages.

Though, it was apparently impressive enough at the time to warrant a head pat from Lucifer.

The fourth born leaned closer to Lucifer to get a better look at the book’s illustrations. They were always slightly off and strange looking, much like the pictures in the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark book that L!MC had given Satan for his birthday.

Lucifer abruptly stopped reading.

“Why’d you stop?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then over at L!MC. Aw... Satan didn’t even get a chance to read...

“Our audience has fallen asleep.” Lucifer stifled a yawn and prepared to close the book, Satan quickly shoved his hand on the page to stop him.

“You started reading,” Satan looked away and grumbled. “So at least finish the story...”

Lucifer smirked and opened the book back up. “If you insist, Satan.”

————————

Yayyyyy! Babies! I’m sure the three get back to normal by Monday... hopefully...

Here’s a link to the song Levi and Mammon are singing!

I hope you all enjoyed! As of the time I’m posting this, the next set of Lessons 1-5 Headcanons will be out tomorrow at 8:30 pm EST.

[queenshelby]

A New Life

Part Eleven: Wrestling

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,486

Warning: Smut

Two weeks had passed since your trip to Kerry and you believed that Laura had finally realised that Cillian was not interested in her.

But, even if she was, this didn’t change anything between you and Cillian as you continued to hide your little affair with each other. One could hardly call it an affair though. You were friends. Friends with some benefits and tonight was one of those nights he visited you after Max had gone to bed.

You only had four weeks left with each other before you would return back home to Australia and you most certainly wanted to make the most of the time you had left.

Unfortunately, Cillian could never stay over which was something that bothered you and you always wondered whether it bothered him too. But if Max knew, everyone else would know too, so, after you had slept with each other, he would normally leave and then pretend the next day that nothing had happened.

Whilst, as an actor, this was easy for him, you struggled with it, wanting to kiss him and touch him when you were amongst friends. But that clearly wasn’t part of the deal and all intimacy was reserved for when you were alone with each other.  

Because of this, you couldn’t keep your hands of each other when he finally did come and visit you and tonight was no different.

Within ten minutes of Cillian’s arrival, you were both completely naked on your bed and Cillian’s hands were on your thighs, spreading your legs further as he went straight to work with his tongue.

You moaned as the heat of his tongue mixed with the cool night breeze and Cillian moaned as he plunged his tongue inside you, tasting you. He made short work of bringing you to an orgasm leaving you breathless and needy for more.

‘Fuck you are so good at this’ you huffed out as you slowly came down from your high but Cillian didn’t give you any time to relax.  

‘Turn over’ Cillian growled and you complied with his request and went onto all fours, wiggling your ass suggestively.

‘Take me Cillian’ you groaned as Cillian ran his hand over your bare back and down over your ass. ‘Cillian, please... I need you inside me’ you demanded.

You had spent all day together and couldn’t touch or kiss, but now you were desperate and needed to have him.

‘As you wish’ he smirked as he pressed the firm head of his cock against your opening.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as he held your bare hips and pushed his length inside you from behind.

Being pressed against the pile of pillows in front of you made you feel fuller somehow and you pushed back against him with his thrusts, hungrily taking every inch of him. He moved his hands up to hold your shoulders as he pumped his cock into you, causing you to moan loudly.

‘Ssh Love, you have to be quiet’ he reminded you while covering your mouth with his hand despite the fact that the noises you made spurred him on.

‘Fuck me harder’ you demanded, moaning into his hand, and it wasn’t long until he was pounding you roughly from behind.

While Cillian kept one hand on your mouth, he reached under you with the other to pinch your nipples, sending you over the edge again.

‘Oh god yes yes yes’ you groaned into the palm of his hand as your orgasm washed over you and, within moments, Cillian cried out as well as he came and filled you with his warm cum from behind.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he groaned as his cock was pulsating inside you and his cum mixed with your own liquids before running down the inside of your thighs.

But, just because he came, didn’t mean that he was done. He had great stamina and, shortly after he pulled out of you, you found yourself beneath him.

‘Eager are we, Mr Murphy?’ you asked, causing Cillian to smirk.

‘Always Y/N…I just love being inside of you’ he said and, just as he did, you whimpered as he drove into you again as deep as he could. You couldn't think straight enough to say anything by this point, but he didn't seem to be waiting for a response.

‘Fuck Cillian, I'm going to cum...’ you gasped after another fifteen minutes of passionate love making and, just as you did, he adjusted his position which allowed the area above his cock to rub against your clit as he thrusted into you with circular motions.

‘Yes, fuck…yes’ you moaned loudly as you came again, hard and fast, forgetting all about Max sleeping in the room next to yours.

Ignoring how loud you were, Cillian continued to pound into you and you cried out again while running your tongue across his neck and throat.

Cillian growled and increased the speed and force of his thrusting, making you cry out even louder as he dragged out your orgasm.

When you finally came down from your high, but Cillian hadn’t reached his just yet, you thought about something different, something you had read about in a magazine the other day.

You wrapped your legs around Cillian’s waist as he continued to fuck you, indicating to him that you didn’t want him to change positions which was what he would usually do after you came.

Then, you pulled him close for a passionate kiss while you reached between the two of you to collect some of the slick juices from your extremely wet core while feeling his cock thrusting in and out of you with your fingertips before playing with his tight balls.

The sensation of your fingers running over his balls made him groan into your mouth but, little did he know that you hadn’t reached your destination yet.

After teasing him a little, you moved your hand away from in between you and ran your wet finger through the crack of his ass while he continued to make love to you.

Then, slowly and carefully, you slid your finger into his tight hole. Just a little bit at first and, after he groaned again loudly into your mouth in between passionate kisses, you added a bit more.

The sensation overwhelmed Cillian completely and he broke the kiss to let out a loud groan while his chin dropped open.

‘Does that feel good?’ you asked as Cillian’s movements became more erratic and his moans became louder and louder by the second.

‘So good...’ he murmured, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. ‘I'm going to cum inside you so hard...’ he then huffed out and you were incredibly turned on simply by the thought of it.

‘Oh god yes…fill me up... Cillian I want you to fill me with your cum’ you moaned, racing closer towards another orgasm yourself.

Cillian grunted, fucking you hard, his cock wrapped in your snug pussy while your index finger was buried in his ass, teasing him.

You could feel the layer of sweat between you, making everything feel dirty as your slick skin rubbed together. You gasped again and shouted out his name as, suddenly, you came again and Cillian grunted several times, as thick bursts of cum filled your tight pussy once more. You could feel his legs trembling as he rode out his orgasm and you kissed him and pulled him close, too exhausted to move.

Eventually, when you both came down from your high, you removed your finger and Cillian pulled out of you which is when, suddenly, you heard a noise coming from near the bedroom door.

Quickly, you pulled the doona over you both which is when you noticed Max opening the door.

‘What are you guys doing?’ he asked, rubbing his eyes before telling you that he had been hearing some weird noises coming from your bedroom.

‘Uhm…Max…uhm’ you stammered, cheeks flushing red, unsure what to say.

‘You guys look funny and all sweaty. Are you sick?’ he then asked and you continued to stammer something of no substance ‘And why is Cillian in your bed? Is he sleeping here tonight? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Max then asked which is when, finally, Cillian responded to his many queries.

‘We were wrestling’ Cillian said with an awkwardly serious facial expression, causing you to swallow your giggle.

‘Why?’ Max then asked.

‘Because it’s a sport I’ve taken up and your mum is helping me train’ Cillian explained, causing Max to nod.

‘Why do you wrestle in mummy’s bed without wearing any clothes though?’ he then asked and Cillian took a minute or two to find an explanation.

‘You guys are weird’ Max finally observed before asking for a glass of water.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[sleepdeprivedsloth]

Cold Foot

[MHA - Midoriya, Todoroki]

summary: Todoroki is caught walking around with a sock covering only one of his feet. Midoriya is determined to figure out the reasoning behind his unusual clothing choices. (platonic TodoDeku tickle fic)

potential warnings: tickling

words: 1.4 k

a/n: haha finally branching out into the dekusquad characters bc they are so sweet and i love them!! but yeah i hope you all enjoy reading this, much love <<33

--

The first time Todoroki walked out of his dorm room with a sock on only one of his feet, everyone thought it was just a silly oversight. It was still pretty early in the morning; maybe his brain just needed a bit more time to fully wake up and realize that he hadn’t exactly finished getting dressed.

The second time he was caught walking around half-barefoot, Todoroki received a few confused glances, but the majority of his peers chose to cut him some slack and let him be. It was a Saturday after all; maybe he was just too lazy to be bothered.

However, when his classmates passed through the common area and saw Todoroki lounging on the couch, both feet outstretched but only one wearing a plain white sock for the third time, they started to suspect that these occurrences weren’t accidental. Most had paused for a moment to take in Todoroki’s abnormal clothing choices, looking upon the scene with complete and utter confusion, but ultimately decided that it was best to just let the fire and ice hero-in-training do his own thing.

Not Midoriya though. Much like his peers, the green-haired boy had stopped and stared for a few seconds to internally ponder on the different possibilities as to why Todoroki chose to only cover up one foot, but it didn’t take long for his curiosity to inevitably get the better of him.

Midoriya casually made his way towards Todoroki and settled himself on the couch, sitting beside the intriguingly half-socked feet. Feeling the cushions shift from the added weight, Todoroki looked up from his phone and peered at Midoriya expectantly. “Can I help you with something, Midoriya?”

“Why are you wearing a sock on only one of your feet?” Midoriya promptly asked, as if he was anxiously waiting for his friend to acknowledge his presence. His green eyes subconsciously moved their curious gaze to the feet in question. “At first, I thought that the need to put on the other sock just slipped your mind, but you’re more attentive than that. You wouldn’t have missed something as simple as a missing sock. But then again-” Midoriya looked back up sheepishly as he stopped himself from going on a full-on rant, having to mentally refocus himself on the matter at hand. “A-anyways, I was just wondering why you only wear one sock, that’s all.”

Todoroki’s lips curled up slightly when Midoriya pulled himself out of his rambling. “Since the right side of my body can manipulate ice, my right foot doesn’t get cold like my left one does. There just simply is no need for me to wear a sock on that foot.”

And with that, Midoriya’s brain switched into research mode. He reached out and grabbed onto Todoroki’s right, unsocked foot, turning it around in his hands as he started inspecting it. “Huh, I never thought of it like that. But it does make sense, more so than the far-fetched theories that I had come up with..” 

In his peripheral vision, Midoriya saw Todoroki tense up, his nervous eyes trained on the foot that was trapped in Midoriya’s grasp. The green-haired boy could just barely make out the slightest hint of a giddy smile on his friend’s lips.

It didn’t take long for Midoriya to piece the subtle signs together. A mischievous glint flashed across his playful eyes as he set his new plan into motion. “Hey Todoroki, you wouldn’t mind if I were to experiment a bit with this new found information, right? It would be a great addition to my notes on your unique half and half quirk.”

Todoroki looked a bit uneasy at the thought of Midoriya performing hands-on research on him, but inevitably agreed. “Sure, I don’t mind.” He tried to relax himself and picked up his phone, resuming his mindless scrolling from before. Midoriya just wanted more accurate and detailed notes, that’s all. What was the worst that could happen?

“Great~” Midoriya laid a hand across Todoroki’s ankles, effectively pinning them down against the couch cushions. 

Todoroki’s head shot up to look at his trapped feet, eyes widening in surprise. “W-wait, Midoriya, what are you-”

“We already know that your fire side is more sensitive to the cold, but I wonder if it’s also more sensitive to touch…” Midoriya slowly dragged a finger down the length of Todoroki’s socked foot, starting just underneath his toes and traveling down to the heel. Up and down, over and over, again and again.

Todoroki choked on the laughter that was trying to force its way out of his throat as he instinctively tried to pull his feet away from the soft touches. Unfortunately for him, both feet were kept firmly in place by Midoriya’s strong hold. A small string of giggles escaped his lips when the torturous finger swiped against a particularly sensitive spot in the middle of his arch. “Nohohohoho! Midohohoriyahahaha!!”

Midoriya smiled at the sweet sound of his friend’s rare laughter, but he couldn’t break character just yet. “How does this feel? What would you rate the sensations on a scale from one to ten?”

With his mind being preoccupied with the soft, tickly feelings on his left foot, Todoroki genuinely couldn’t tell if Midoriya was purposefully teasing him or was just honestly curious about how much he could feel the sensations. Either way, the green-haired boy’s words caused a light blush to spread across his grinning face. “I dohohon’t knohow?”

Midoriya stopped the light tracing in favor of gently scribbling his five fingers against the socked sole. “How about now?”

Todoroki’s laughter raised an octave as his squirming became more desperate. “Ohokahahay okahahahay! Mahahahaybe a seheheven?”

“Hmm, interesting…” Midoriya momentarily stilled his fingers, allowing his friend a quick breather. “Let’s check your other foot now, shall we?”

A fresh wave of giddy panic flowed through Todoroki’s body. “Noho need! Haven’t yohou done enohough experimenting?” He started to lean forward and reach towards Midoriya, trying to grab ahold of his troublesome hands, but immediately fell back down the moment he felt fingers fluttering against his bare foot. “NOHOHOHOHO!!”

“Sorry, but we must compare the ratings of both feet to get the most accurate results,” Midoriya explained sympathetically, but both boys knew that he wasn’t really sorry. “Now, how would you rate the sensations on this foot?”

Todoroki tugged desperately at his feet, but Midoriya’s hold seemed unbreakable, especially since his own strength had been weakened from all of the squirming and laughing. He wrapped his arms tightly around his torso, as if to hold in the uncontrollable flow of laughter that left his face-splitting smile. “MIDOHOHOHORIYAHAHA PLEHEHEHEASE, IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES! LEHEHEHEHET GOHOHOHOHO!!”

“My research isn’t complete yet, Todoroki!” Midoriya wiggled his fingers in between Todoroki’s scrunched toes. The fire and ice student threw his head back, his roars of laughter becoming even more hysterical. Midoriya beamed fondly at the sight of his friend finally letting loose from his much-too-serious persona. “If you would just rate how this feels, it would all be over~”

“AHAHAHAHA TEHEHEHEN! IHIHIHIHIT’S AHAHAHA TEHEHEN! PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!!” Todoroki called out, eyes squeezed shut to prevent his mirthful tears from spilling onto his flushed cheeks.

Midoriya stopped his tickling and brought both arms back down into his lap, giving his friend’s feet the freedom to move. Todoroki instantly brought his legs against his heaving chest and wrapped his arms around them protectively, resting his head on top of his knees.

With a victorious smile, Midoriya exclaimed, “Based on all of the research you have so generously helped me gather, I can now confidently conclude that your ice foot is definitely more sensitive to touch than your fire foot!”

“That’s nohot exactly accurate,” Todoroki argued, mindlessly tracing along the veins in the top of his right foot with an index finger. “My ‘ice foot,’ as you like to call it, was unsocked during the whole experiment. So of course it was going to be more sensitive than my-” Todoroki caught his mistake too late as he cautiously brought his gaze back up to look at Midoriya’s reaction. To his dismay, he was immediately met with the same mischievous green eyes from before.

“You’re absolutely right, Todoroki!” Midoriya agreed, slowly inching himself closer to his classmate. “We just simply need more data and then-”

Todoroki didn’t waste another precious second. He instantly leaped off of the couch and bolted out of the common area towards the elevator, already giggling uncontrollably as he heard Midoriya’s teasing words not too far behind him.

--

a/n: thanks for reading everyone! ler midoriya is just *chef’s kiss* i love him okay? omg and when characters who don’t really smile much (cough cough todo and baku) genuinely laugh it is so cute i can’t!! lol anyways good night/day yall :)

[sweetiejunie]

Jealous

Summary: You get jealous that he was ‘flirting’ with another idol

Genre: fluff, smut «dont read if you dislike this, you have been warned»

Yeonjun x reader

—.*•—

💕request by anon: Hi! May I request jealous sex with Yeonjun? In which case the reader get's jealous of another idol being too close with Yeonjun?

A/n: havent wrote a smut in a while, hope you liked this!

======================================

You were ignoring him. Was it petty? Yes. Was it necessary? Well, to you it was. Did he deserve it? That was debatable, but to you it was a hell yeah he did.

So, what exactly did he do that made you this mad? Some may say it was harmless. Some may say you were overreacting. But he was flirting with another girl! Right in front of you! Another idol to be exact.

Okay sure, technically the both of you weren’t in a relationship. And yes, he had free will do what he wanted. The relationship between the two of you could have been described as... complicated. It was painfully obvious that the two of you liked each other. I mean, every-time you passed each other, yeonjun would either blow you a kiss or wink at you playfully. And you loved to tease him every now and then. Throwing him random complements that added to his — already— overinflated ego and then breaking it down again and vice versa. It was all in good fun, of course. And he knew that. It was just how your dynamic worked with him. It had been months since it first started, and you practically already acted like a couple, with all the hand holding, kissing and things that were better left to the imagination. You just never made it official, but everyone who knew you, knew the both of you were off limits.

Long story short, that’s how yeonjun ended up in you apartment. You hadn’t expected him to show up so soon. You left shortly after you witnessed the whole... ordeal... take place. You had just taken a shower, wrapping yourself in your thin silk robe when your door bell rang. And here he was.

“Come on y/n, I’ve already apologised.” He tried for what was most likely the tenth time.

You didn’t budge. Frankly speaking, you’ve already forgiven him, maybe after his second apology or so. But seeing his attempts to gain your forgiveness was just too cute to pass on. You were sure he had figured that out by now and was simply playing alone.

“Y/n, please? I’m sorry.” He pouted this time, trying to catch you glance. Giving you puppy dog eyes the entire time. “I was just kidding. You know i would never hit on anyone other than you.”

You didn’t reply, trying your hardest not to let a smile break your, slowly but surely, shattering demeanour .

“Y/nnnnn,” he whined again, poking your cheek. “I swear i was just having a conversation.”

Gosh, why did this boy had to be so darn cute all the time.

You let giggled escape this time. By the time you caught yourself, he’d already noticed. And he took that opportunity to hook an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. Sealing your back against his chest.

Something pulled at his lips, “i really am sorry.” A short pause before he continued. “Were you really that jealous?” You weren’t even facing him, but you hear the smug grin that was plastered on his face.

His question caught you off guard. “I- I was not jealous.” Never have you wanted to crawl under the table as much as you did in this moment.

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Is that so?” His hands rubbing gentle circles against your sides. “My mistake, then. But i have to admit,” he leaned in closer to your ear to whisper, “that knowledge actually made me extremely turned on.”

Your cheeks coloured at his confession. How were you supposed to reply to that?

“Baby... let me make it up to you,” he murmured.

He placed his hand on your shoulders, spinning you to face him as he leaned towards you. His lips were soft yet unrelentingly firm. Wasting no time to make your thoughts go blurry with nothing but the idea of him. He let his hand slide down your thighs, over the robe you wore. Lifting you to your toes then hire, he wrapped your legs around his waist. The lower half of the robe parted as the upper half rolled of your shoulders.

Yeonjun’s growing hardness pressed into you, and your body answered on its own accord, moving against him, dragging a grunt out from him. You weren’t sure if it was his hand kneading at your rear, feeling of him between your thighs or the intensity of the kiss that drove you closer to the edge. Perhaps it was a combination of everything. Everything about this man drove you insane.

“Bedroom?” His chest rising heavily against yours.

You nodded and his lips were back on yours as he walked you both to your room. Not having to look where he was going, he knew your entire apartment by muscle memory.

After several moments, one of his arms folded over your waist, his other in your hair as he lowered you onto the bed. The back of head rested on your pillows as his hand eased from underneath you. You opened your eyes when you felt the bed dip with his weight. His hands on either side of your head as he hovered over you.

Noticing that the robe had now slipped even further, you wanted to cover yourself. But you didn’t move. The swells of your breasts were now visible, and an entire leg was out, all the way to you hip. You simply shifted your gaze to his.

Neither of you spoke as his chests rose and fell, his breathing as uneven as yours. His lips parted, but no words came out. His muscles rigid as he held him up before he ducked his to neck. Kissing a trail along your jaw, down to your collar bones. Your breath hitched as you burned more.

“Y/n...” there was an abundance of need in that one word, your name. “Let me make it up to you the only way i know how.”

His hand drifted over you stomach, where your skin had been exposed. You could barely breathe or think as his lips brushed against the neckline of the robe. You felt the warm glide of his tongue through the fabric. You gasped, shocked by the act and rush that it brought you. His gaze lifted to you as his mouth closed over the tip of your breast. He sucked deep and long, and your gasp quickly turned into a cry. You felt his hand move closer to where you needed him the most, pressing down against your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

“Mmm.” His lips shifted back to your neck. “You like that, baby?”

There was no point replying. He already knew the answer, and he did it again, causing you to whimper more.

“You’re very wet, y/n.” He breathed against your jaw. “I like that.” A pause. “I also like how you react to my touch.”

Without another word, yeonjun turned you to the side, away from him. Confused, you looked back to him as he stretched out behind you. He rested on his elbow and met your eyes.

“I’ll take care of you,” he hummed, pulling you into the cradle of his hip.

Your robe had slipped and now there was nothing but the jeans he wore between your bare rear and the hard length of him. You bit your lip as he trailed down you side and lifted your leg, sliding one of his between. His hand drew along your body before meeting with your wetness. His touch remaining light, almost featherlike, as he slid a finger across your center, causing your entire body to twitch. He continued this motion for what felt like eternity, and then he sank that finger in. You kicked your head back against his chest, letting out a breathy moan.

“You’re the only one for me,” he grunted. “You know that.” He pulled his finger almost completely out of you before inching it back in again.

You couldn’t respond as fire sparked inside of you with each thrust of his finger. He angled his hand so that his thumb could brush against your sensitive nerves. Each motion taking more breathe out of you. His worked his other arm around you, and across your chest. Palming and squeezing your breast as he worked in a second finger.

“Yeonjun.” You managed, your hips still moving.

And you could tell he was loosing his composure when he replied. “Ah fuck.” He sucked in a breath. “Just ride my fingers.”

You cried out, rubbing harder against his hand, against him. His breaths hitched in his throat as you did this. Looking back, you saw him watching hand, watching you grind and clench around them. Right then, you couldn’t even remember what you had been jealous about. Was it some bitch? Well, she wasn’t the one here with yeonjun now. Your stomach tightened as you continued to ride his fingers, riding his length that pressed against you behind.

He started to move so there was space between your bodies. Instead, you reached for his hip, nails digging into his skin as a silent demand.

And yeonjun obeyed.

He stilled, cursing as his plunged his fingers faster, rubbing your clit harder. You rocked against him, the feeling in your lower stomach becoming too much. With a final thrust, you moaned out when you came. You shuddered around his fingers and he shuddered against you, still moving his digits, exploiting every sensation from you until you went limb in his arms.

You stayed there, both your breathing slowly steadying. He eased out of you and you turned your head to face him. You expected to see that cocky grin of his. But you caught the red hue that tinted his cheeks instead. And slowly you became aware of the dampness at your lower back. You eyes widened when you realised.

“Sorry,” a sheepish smirk appearing, pulling your robe back to its original state. “Only you could do this to me.”

Now it was your turn for your lips to twitch. “I guess i should get jealous more often, huh?”

“So you were jealous~” he sang.

“Shut up.”

.

.

.

======================================

What was this 😀 i think ive been reading too much

[words-writ-in-starlight]

where's the essay op

Okay so bayonets.  I don't know why I ever pretend that I want to talk about anything but military history and battlefield medicine.  I checked all my sources in the waiting room of a doctor's office so you're just going to have to trust me because they are Gone.  I’m pretty sure this can all be found on a few Wiki dives, though.

First of all, to recap, let me clarify a common misconception.  The triangular bayonet was NOT outlawed in the 1949 Geneva Convention, nor any future revisions—as it was originally a musket weapon, it was fading out of use by World War II and the subsequent Convention.  However, you'll notice that I opted to use to word "violates" rather than "were banned by," which is a fine semantical hair to split and, I suppose, debatable.  Most bayonets were not explicitly banned in the GC, in that there is not an article in the GC saying you can't use them.  However there IS an article in the GC, adopted from the earlier 1899 Hague Regulations, stating that it is prohibited to "employ weapons...of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering" (originally part of Article 23 of the HR, now Article 35 of the GC, expanded in 1977).  Personally, as someone who knows a lot about how a lot of weapons impact the human body, I think that is a more expansive statement than most people would expect, and should be treated accordingly.  Regrettably I do not work for the UN.

Point is, triangular blades specifically are known to cause wounds that are difficult to heal, highly prone to infection, and extremely likely to never fully recover, while also having a relatively low mortality rate.  This is because the axes of a triangular wound, which is shaped sort of like a Y, make it very hard to stitch closed, and very easy for any "twisting" of the blade to create a large hole with ragged edges that's functionally impossible to stitch closed.  As an added bonus, because of the way scar tissue forms, it's possible for one "line" of a triangular wound to pull open other parts of the puncture while the scar tissue forms and pulls on the skin.  Even by standards in the 1700s, triangular bayonet wounds were phenomenally likely to infect and consistently difficult to repair, and modern medicine has made only limited improvements on that situation.  As such, cases have been made that certain types of bayonet/triangular blades in general are therefore in violation of this article, despite not being explicitly banned.

(Side note: yes, the American military violates the GC on the regular.  The American police violate the GC.  I am excruciatingly aware.  The GC is interesting reading generally, but especially if you're an American and you ever feel like being appalled for a few hours.)

Anyway, with that covered again, let's actually talk about the development of triangular bayonets, which might've been out of use by the time of the GC but DEFINITELY violated that article in a big way for a good two centuries prior and are also a fascinating insight into the fact that humanity, as a whole, is really determined to do things in the dumbest way possible.

The first thing you have to understand about bayonets is that they were originally invented as a way to integrate pikes with guns, not knives or even swords.  When arquebuses and muskets were first invented, you were lucky to get a rate of fire around one round per minute, and you still had to protect your army while they were reloading their clunky black powder guns.  Therefore, most infantries between like...the invention of the gun and the late 1600s were comprised of soldiers equipped with muskets, and also soldiers equipped with pikes (a type of spear).  The idea of a bayonet was "what if we put a pike and a musket TOGETHER and then we could give everyone THAT and have way more guns in our army because we don't need pikemen anymore." Which makes sense when you think about it.

What makes less sense is that the initial effort at bayonets was something called a plug bayonet.  You'll never fucking guess what these geniuses (first record is Chinese infantry around-abouts 1600, popular use of plug bayonets recorded in Europe around the 1630s) figured out for their first try at a bayonet.  Here's a hint!  There's not a lot of places on a gun where you can "plug in" a sword. 

Obviously plug bayonets did not exactly catch on as a fantastic solution, because these guns were either a gun OR a short spear and neither was especially good at their jobs.  A bunch of battles hinged on this problem. Which brings us to the end of the 1600s, when English forces in Scotland got absolutely obliterated by a bunch of Highlanders in 1689 because the English were so busy trying to fix their bayonets that the Highlanders literally just charged them, fired one volley, and cut them down with swords and axes. The English took that one very personally (which, you know what, fair, it was a humiliating defeat, especially since the Highlanders had been using that tactic very successfully for a while) and started developing better bayonets.

This is where we get to socket bayonets, AKA what you would probably recognize as a bayonet from a period TV series or a museum.  Socket bayonets have a metal sleeve that gets attached around the barrel of a gun (in this case a musket), so that you can still theoretically use the damn gun while it's attached.  There were problems with the development of socket bayonets (notably, it took a while to figure out how to keep them from falling off the gun during battle), but overall they worked much better and armies started getting rid of pikemen. This was also when bayonets were shortened to a little over a foot, which isn't really important but made them much easier to maneuver.  Socket bayonets were the European order of the day by the early 1700s, and mostly came in three flavors: single edge (like a knife), double edge (like a sword), and spike (like a...spike).  There were pros and cons to all of these (single edge wasn't great for stabbing, spike was ONLY good for stabbing, and double edge was kind of okay at stabbing and kind of okay at slashing), but most importantly, both single and double edged bayonets were fragile.  The heads of polearms were shaped on patterns other than "sword on a stick" for a reason, and it's because "sword on a stick" is not very sturdy.

Triangular bayonets were the solution to this problem.  Triangular bayonets are basically a single piece of metal creased long-ways, with both edges sharpened and the top fluted to form a third edge at the crease.  This makes a much more resilient weapon than a flat blade, because a twisting motion doesn’t risk snapping the blade in the middle.  It also means that now you have three edges, and human nature is to figure “more knife better.”

And don’t get me wrong, as a weapon of war, the triangular bayonet was a great one.  It was introduced in the 1710s and then got used regularly to maim and terrify through the start of the 1900s.  In fact, the triangular bayonet worked so well that it only began to get phased out of use when the style of war itself started to change dramatically during the World Wars.  When warfare was focused on pitched battle (your old school “two armies enter, one army leaves” kind of warfare), the emphasis of a bayonet was on extending the reach of a gun.  A bayonet lets a soldier have a weapon for closer range combat, where a gun—especially a long gun like a musket—is not as effective.  So when you had two armies on the field and a bayonet was first and foremost a way to keep the enemy at least gun-length away, longer bayonets were better.  

But World War I was the advent of trench warfare, which was a terrible idea and also meant that a long weapon, like a gun with an extra foot and a half of sword on top, was much, MUCH harder to work with.  Either fighting took place in no man’s land, where you probably weren’t going to get close enough to use a bayonet anyway, or in a trench, where a weapon as long as you were tall was just impossible to work with.  

(If you know anything about WWI, you’re probably asking me about bayonet charges right now, specifically the concept of “going over the top.”  Contrary to every media representation of WWI ever, “going over the top” of a trench faded out of use pretty quickly.  It was a type of bayonet charge where the soldiers in ONE trench fixed their bayonets and tried to charge no man’s land in an effort to reach the OTHER trench, but it was basically never effective because no man’s land was often heavily trapped and strafed with gunfire and mortar shells.  Also, it was the kind of battle tactic that military history books talk about with phrases like “total annihilation of whole attacking battalions,” so that’s the kind of mortality rate we’re talking about here.  The Battle of the Somme featured a good number of bayonet charges by the British, for context, so people learned and started using other tactics.)

So, since bayonets were only useful in trenches, suddenly everyone was scrambling to shorten bayonets and guns so that their soldiers could get ANYTHING DONE.  And THEN soldiers started admitting that they were literally taking their bayonets off their guns and using them as knives instead, because for trench fighting that was way more useful, and so everyone just decided fuck it, let’s just make bayonet-knives, which is why WWI weapons with bayonets usually look, very literally, like someone duct taped a short knife to the front of a gun.  This was the start of the decline of the triangular bayonet, a full two hundred years after it hit the battlefield, which is a frankly spectacular run for any weapon since the invention of the gun.  Triangular bayonets held on, here and there, through part of WWII, but they were almost entirely gone by the time of the Geneva Convention being ratified in 1949.  However, spike or knife bayonets are still issued to many armies as a weapon of last resort to this day, although they aren’t often used in actual attacks.  Now we have bigger, worse weapons for actual attacks.

 TL;DR, the development of bayonets went like this:

“What if we put a pike ON a gun?  …oh wait, you still want to use the gun?  Sucks to be you, I guess.”

“What if we put a sword on the gun instead?  Then we could put it somewhere where we can still use the gun!  Good luck keeping it on there, though.”

“What if we actually made something designed to get put on a gun and stab people effectively?  Like, what if we designed something with that purpose in mind?  Perhaps?” SMASH CUT TWO CENTURIES

“Well if you’re just gonna take your bayonet off and stab someone with it anyway, can we just go back to giving you knives, then?”

And now you’re caught up on all the dubiously successful ways we’ve tried to mutilate people with a knife-gun.

[theowritesfiction]

I'm trying to think of things we haven't already discussed at length lol...here's one I was thinking last night 'cause my siblings & I were doing fan art & choosing screen caps or comics panels to copy. the atla comics were unforgivable plot wise but sometimes the character designs could be really cute on a purely aesthetic level

Okay here's a more character interpretation based one: I can't remember who posted it but someone posited recently that maybe Ozai favored Azula because he saw himself in her - the underappreciated younger siblings. Ozai & Ursa already had a male heir so it's not like they had to have another kid. The most reasonable explanation is that for the first 2 years or so, they actually liked being parents & wanted another family member. It was only with time that Ozai started projecting onto his children. Iroh was the golden child & Ozai felt underappreciated. As a girl, Azula would be underappreciated by most until her father started giving her special treatment so maybe it actually started out as him trying to make things more even & grew toxic for both kids with time. I can't remember who posted the meta on this but I like this interpretation

Okay, you get a Buffy one too now. I honestly wish Buffy could've had more heel moments. Not because she's a mary sue or lacking complexity. Just to be clear, I think Buffy is a very complex & interesting character, she's one of my favorite characters in any media ever. But it feels like the show intends to give her some moments where she's wrong & every time it falls flat because she's not wrong. Instead, what we get is a situation where it feels like the other characters fault buffy unfairly again and again. It would've added dimension to all the other characters if Buffy could've actually made mistakes that hurt them more. I think there were in character ways to do this, & the writers didn't, for whatever reason & it led to a disappointing main cast at times. (I still love many of the other characters too, that's why I said "at times." I just don't think the show ever successfully made it look as though Buffy was in the wrong any of the times it attempted to - dead man's party, the end of season 7, anytime during season 6, etc. & your main character should be wrong sometimes, especially if you're trying to make your other characters sympathetic)

So, on the comics, since I read the whole lot of them in like 2 days more than a year ago and have been trying to forget ever since, what I remember most is that the art style was wildly inconsistent. Some of them definitely had a slightly higher budget feel to them than the others. And I agree that some of the character designs could be quite nice. Although the way they drew Azula was leaning way more into the evil/insane side so I wasn't a fan of that. But the panels where she was kicking the crap out of everyone were very satisfying, because everyone else were literally so unlikable!

The theory about Ozai preferring Azula because he saw himself in her, it's an interesting one, and I could accept it as a credible explanation, there's nothing unbelievable about it. However, from my interest in history and the way autocratic rulers generally think about succession, I think Ozai's favorite child would always be the one he could more easily shape into what he wanted/needed them to be, provided they were talented and capable enough. Unfortunately for Azula, she was both the better firebender and also possessed the qualities that Ozai deemed necessary in a leader (so basically saw himself in her / Ozai's narcisism meaning he saw himself as the perfect leader, obviously). The interesting question is how would Ozai have acted if Zuko was the superior firebender? Would it matter that Ozai saw himself more in Azula than Zuko? I'm not sure. But in that case I could also imagine Ozai trying his best to separate Ursa from Zuko, and then really sink his fangs into Zuko. Maybe Azula and Ursa would grow closer in such a scenario - an interesting AU idea perhaps.

Okay about Buffy, I can really speak about what I've seen during my re-watch, and I do agree that it feels like Buffy doesn't really make bad mistakes, and yet the writers are trying to shape and present some of her actions as mistakes when they really don't feel like that at all, and then when she's publicly called out and shamed for these decisions, it just feels totally unfair and makes all the other characters look like massive jerks. It would all feel a lot more satisfying if they would allow Buffy to make an actual bad mistake and then call her out for that. I think that Buffy keeping the news about Angel's return in S3 was kind of bad, but they completely botched the way it was handled, because you can't just turn that into a Xander-led bullying session, it just makes Buffy immediately sympathetic. The one episode where I thought Buffy's mistake was handled well was her one on one talk with Giles when he told her that she had disrespected him and that was effective, because Buffy rightfully felt bad about her actions. But yeah, I completely agree, the writing in btvs at times can be very odd, about this and other things.

[saberstars]

I'm Here

Pairing: Gender Neutral Y/N & Loki

Fluff, angst, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of depression/mental illness, epilepsy/seizures, mentions of sex, as always if I missed anything feel free to let me know

Summary: Loki & You have a pre-existing friendship with benefits & one night you have a seizure after some spiciness. He cares for you helping you afterwards & makes sure you rest easy & safe. Reader is portrayed to have seizures more so during changes in sleep phases, not awake. The wake seizures or more of a medium ish absence/ focal aware seizure that only occur on occasion & can be “fought” through.

Word Count: 1796

Notes: This was intended to be a gender neutral reader. I think I removed all he/she pronouns.

Additionally, I know that not everyone experiences seizures the same way, and that epilepsy can affect people differently. This is all written from my experiences with it, so I ask that you do not tell me I portrayed something wrong. I can and will accept constructive criticism, But I will not accept someone telling me blatantly that I am wrong with my experiences. Therefore please keep that in mind when reading. I genuinely hope this fic brings others comfort if you suffer from epilepsy or any disorder that causes seizures. Thank You <3

It’s been three years since you found out you suffered from epilepsy. A diagnosis that came late in your life to be fair. As a young child up until you reached adulthood, you suffered from eye shakes that would eventually turn into stuttering spells that made it difficult to breath or not breath properly at all. You never passed out though, you got close a few times, but you managed to stay awake and “fight it off.” You started to notice over time that you’d also get a strange taste in your mouth, almost like metal or as if you were sucking on a battery and it had that zing flavor. You knew that was a precursor and would panic on cue rightfully so. You hated when you had your mini stutter fests because all you could do was hope it didn’t happen.

Of course you complained to your parents as a child but they didn’t think it was anything. They said it was just a panic attack. So you took their word for it. That was until you started having grand mals in your sleep. At first you thought they were just a part of some strange dream, that wasn't real to you, not yet anyway. You would wake up exhausted, sore, sometimes unable to move properly, walk, open and close a fist, and you just overall couldn't stay conscious sometimes. Again you complained to your parents about it, but they said it was nothing. You probably had night terrors or some form of minor sleep paralysis. So you dumbly believed them.

When you moved out, You sought answers, and eventually got them. You were grateful. The medication they prescribed helped tremendously though, it did make you tired but it was worth not having your episodes. Thankfully your case wasn’t as severe as others and it was manageable so long as you took care of yourself and took your medications. Though you were warned, breakthroughs were common, and missing your dose can and would cause a seizure.

Despite having such a diagnosis, you kept it to yourself. You never really told anyone. It wasn’t until you started sleeping with a friend, that you finally divulged your secret too in the event that it ever happened whilst they were with you.

It was someone you randomly slept with on and off with. A friend with benefits, his name was Loki. You had met the god shortly after his father had passed and his home, destroyed. You found comfort with each other despite it being more of a sexual comfort. You both used sex as a way to fight your own demons, a distraction, a quick grab at serotonin. Despite the sex you both developed a very deep friendship. You’d read together on occasion, have very interesting debates on current events, history, as well as other nuances, and a lot of other things. You even met his brother and the avengers at one point.

You both slept soundly after spicy events had taken place 2 hours prior, Loki had come over desperate for attention of any kind. He didn’t say why, but you knew it was a rather serious topic he wished not to discuss and rather lessen the pain with ecstasy. Little did you know, on this day a few years ago he indirectly murdered his mother. He blamed himself dearly, he knew if he would have kept his mouth shut for once in his life she may be here today. So he needed a genuine distraction. One of any kind. Preferable you. Due to the spicy events that took place you missed your dose, due to falling asleep promptly after, which cost you dearly. Missing doses always caused this to happen no matter what.

You gasped for air like usual, your body contorting outwards first with a thrust. You were awake, conscious, and terrified for the few seconds you normally were given before blacking out. You began to stutter violently all the air leaving your lungs as it happened. Until no sounds were made and it was just you chattering. Loki woke immediately, with a completely calm exterior despite a raging mixture of emotions internally. He knew you never called an ambulance for these things because you were normally alone & unaware until you became conscious again. She made him promise to never call 911 unless it was over a certain time length, to save her medical expenses, or unless she stopped breathing for good.

Loki dare not touch you though as you shook and curled up. The last thing he wanted was his godly strength to crush you somehow or cause you more pain. Instead he watched and hovered until you finally stopped. It was a short 50 second one, which was under your time limit, but he still debated calling. It’s not like You would’ve known he lied.

His breathing hitched as he went to check your pulse and airway, ever so delicately, which were both clear and strong.

“Oh thank you.” he whispered

A few hours had slid by with still no response from you. Loki sat next to you, staring down at you, to the point where he would fight the urge to blink, waiting for a stir of some kind from you. He did give the courtesy of redressing you though, in a nightgown from a drawer after an hour slid past. He even went as far as ensuring that you were adequately covered by the blankets to avoid being chilled. It has been 3 ½ hours now, with no stir of any kind from you. He knew it would be awhile before you showed any signs of movement possibly but this worry tore him to his core. In the midst of waiting he refused to just idly go back to sleep next to you, he was determined to stay awake until you were conscious again, so that you knew, he stayed there waiting for you. Loki didn’t know when he found himself talking to you as if you were awake, but all he knew was that it made him feel a bit better, and he hoped that when you woke it would make you feel better too.

“You know, I’ve been reading this really dumb gothic romance novel. I think you’d like it because of how naive the girl is. I know you like to criticize and pick on how they make decisions.” he spoke with a chuckle in his voice thinking back to how you’d flail your arms and drop your book to scream about how dumb some main protagnist could be.

“I'll have to buy you a copy or give you mine when I’m done.” Loki shifted his weight from his right to his left brushing your bangs out of your eyes.

“I don’t know why you keep those so long, all they do is get in the way of your gorgeous eyes.”

It was in that moment you rustled, you shifted your neck ever so slightly, Your eyelids twitch. Loki leaned forward parting his lips as he watched with a heart of hope completely overwhelmed with joy when he saw the color of your iris’s. He exhaled a shaky breath cupping your cheeks which caused you to flinch sending a wave of shocks through your body. It was at that moment you knew. You knew what he saw, what he had gone through. Your heart sank and you immediately berated yourself internally despite your exhausted state.

“It’s ok you don’t have to say or do anything. I’ll stay, I’ll take care of you for as long as you need.” Loki assured you, wanting you to know that you didn’t have to go through this alone. You never really had anyone stay, let alone worry about you. Your eyes began to water as tears rolled down your face.

“I’ll go grab you some water, you’re probably parched. I’ll also grab you a banana. I read that potassium can help with the cramping.” Loki said leaving to yourself for a moment. He also grabbed tissues for your eyes and nose just in case. Upon returning her placed everything at your side offering help to sit up. “Do you need to use the bathroom or help sitting up?” He asked with a gentle tone.

You nodded trying to take a good deep breath so you could speak a bit. “I’m so sorry you had to see that… but thank you. Thank you for staying, for helping. I do need the bathroom and I would appreciate help. My legs are still...” you mustered out with all your might but after a point your tongue refused to work with you.

“Of course, I may be a monster but I’m not entirely cruel. If it helps… you can just think to yourself and I can listen that way. So that you're not struggling too much.” Loki admitted with a tone of self depreciation.

“You're not a monster just because you're different & have made mistakes.” you thought as Loki picked you up bridal style walking you to the bathroom. Of course he placed you down on the toilet and waited outside for you to do what you needed. Since he had only added a nightgown to your previously naked body it made things easier. It was exhausting to just sit up and do everything but you pushed through. You even pushed yourself up and limped to the sink best you could to wash your hands. Upon hearing the faucet though Loki came back in standing behind you offering support if needed.

“Catch me~” you thought before falling back into his arms with a snort.

“You're lucky I have godlike reflexes you minx.” He replied with a hint of flirtation. You had used more than you had in you to wash your hand. Loki caught you obviously and carried you back to the room placing you back on the bed. “No, more like I knew you were ready to catch me.” you slowly thought as exhaustion tugged at your consciousness again. Loki noticed the pill bottle on your dresser before prompting you to take it. Instinctively opening it and sliding one into his hand.

“You should probably take this before you fall asleep.” You took it mentally saying thanks drinking the glass of water with it.

“Yeah that would probably help avoid some added breakdancing.” You joked trying to use humor to lighten the situation. Loki stared plain faced trying not to entertain your joke though, despite finding it secretly witty. Maybe he’d laugh at it when you felt a bit better. Soon after you began to dance between awake and sleep. Loki took note based on how your thoughts jumbled around between multiple things, laughing to himself a bit before minor intrusive fears began picking at you. Loki immediately jumped into action in an attempt to squash them soothing you a bit.

“You can sleep soundly, please get some rest. You don’t have to force yourself to stay awake out of fear or guilt.” Loki spoke in the most caring and sweet tone he could muster up. Trying to convince you that it was going to be ok & it worked. Somehow you knew he was right & that you could trust him completely. You drifted back to sleep peacefully thinking about how for the first time in your life, you didn’t fear sleeping in your bed. You didn’t have intrusive thoughts about whether or not you’d wake up in the morning or not. Which honestly brought tears bubbling their way up and out of Loki's eyes. The amount of trust you had in him in your thoughts, at that moment completely took his breath away. And that was something he wasn’t going to break or ever lose.